


The Grief of the Lost

by Pelandreth



Series: The Wanderer’s Road [5]
Category: Kenshi (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:20:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 104,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pelandreth/pseuds/Pelandreth
Summary: Hungry and exhausted, a group of former slaves hope to find safety among the Tech Hunters. A commoner tries to navigate a tangled web of noble intrigue as war brews in the northern desert. And a group of prisoners, still at the emperor’s mercy, pray for an end to their suffering.For better or for worse, life on the sands is changing.Follow my Twitter for series updates!
Series: The Wanderer’s Road [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1365901
Comments: 19
Kudos: 25





	1. Stenn

It was a beautiful day in the Stenn, birds circling in a cloudless sky high above their heads, and they were all going to die. Kat stood under the burning sun, rubbing at a brow which was not sweating as much as it should, and vaguely wondered when that might happen.

She’d felt numb ever since they’d left the gates of Admag behind — a numbness that had only grown with the soaring heat and dizzying blue emptiness of the sky. The only thing that seemed to break past that barrier was pain. Pain from her bloodied feet, her overstrained muscles, the teeth marks in her arm and leg. The burns from the Okranite flames, itching and simmering though they were, had become a vaguely uncomfortable background noise compared with everything else.

The others had to be feeling a similar way. Spade was buckling under the weight of Rei’s fragment axe, Lekko’s eye was still swollen shut, and Pia was pale beneath her livid sunburn. Rei’s fevered mumblings had given way to a state of near-catatonia, and Jared had moved her weight to his shoulder. They’d left Admag an hour or two ago and Jared had done a good job of hiding how much he was struggling, but when Kat glanced at him, she realised he was swaying.

“We need to stop,” she told him, her own voice a faint echo in her ears. “We’re not gonna make it to your parents’ house if we don’t.”

 _Not gonna make it._ Kat looked out across the barren red hills, teeming with bonedogs and Shek rebels and other hidden dangers. They’d had little choice, but leaving Admag had felt like a push too far. Flats Lagoon might as well have been on the other side of the world for how likely they were to reach it. The thought sent a sudden dizzying rush through Kat’s head, and she had to grab a nearby rock to stop her legs from giving way.

“OK, we stop.” Jared looked relieved, like he hadn’t wanted to make that call himself. “Lekko? How are we doing for water?”

Lekko didn’t respond. The brim of her broken hat, pulled down over her face to try and give herself some shade, obscured whatever expression she was making.

“Lekko?”

Lekko suddenly folded, dust billowing as she hit the path. A moment later she was coughing and groaning and attempting to claw her way back into a sitting position.

“That bad, huh?” Spade observed.

Kat had more pressing concerns. “Lekko!”

“Don’t panic,” Lekko mumbled as Kat knelt beside her. “Brain just decided it was lights-out time…”

Kat grabbed Lekko’s hat and started fanning her with it. “When did you last have something to drink?”

“That’s supposed to be _my_ question,” Lekko said, but her heart wasn’t in it. She gestured weakly at her backpack. “Think we have half a waterskin in there. Maybe. If it didn’t burst when I fell.”

Kat helped Lekko roll over so she could reach the bag. They should have made more of an effort to refill their water in Admag, but they’d been too reliant on reaching the twins’ parents and they were running low. _Stupid mistake. Stupid. We should have known better._ “Here. Drink.” She pushed the mouth of the waterskin between Lekko’s cracked lips. To the others she said, “We need to take another inventory of food and water.”

“Thank fuck, someone else is in charge.” Jared laid his head against a rock and closed his eyes. While Lekko was rehydrating herself, Kat gathered the bags together and started going through them. They didn’t have much. It was just as well they had a place to spend the night, which would hopefully allow for a resupply. “Let me guess. We’re out of that shitty vegetable stuff, right?”

“There’s some crumbs.” Not wanting to look at how little they actually had, nor alarm the others, Kat refastened the backpacks. “The water situation isn’t great. We should have made more of an effort to get some.”

“I know this might come as a shock to a swamp-lander,” said Spade, “but water isn’t free.”

“We should have prioritised it.”

“ _You’re_ the one who prioritised feeding Rei,” Spade pointed out.

It was too half-hearted to be much of a jab, but it still stung. “That was Lekko’s idea too.”

“What have I done?” Lekko said from the ground.

“Nothing, don’t worry.” Kat stared down at the backpacks. “Point is, we still had money. We weren’t thinking clearly. We messed up.”

“It’ll be fine,” Spade said dismissively. “Our parents have a well.”

“We still have to _get_ to your parents.”

“Kat’s got a point,” Jared said. “We don’t even know if they’ll be pleased to see us.”

“When were they ever pleased to see us?” Jared didn’t have a response to that, and Spade puffed out her cheeks. “They’re not going to chase us away. We’ll get there, maybe we’ll have an awkward family reunion or something, and if the worst comes to the worst they’ll just make us sleep in the yard. Still better to be near people than not.”

“Not necessarily. Don’t forget, Spade, a lot’s changed since we were here.”

Spade sniffed. “Our parents have honour. They’d never have joined up with Kral’s Chosen. Besides, I’m not afraid of rebels.”

“Maybe you should be,” said Kat. But _should_ didn’t come into it, not when they were all so used to expecting trouble that the threat of Kral’s Chosen was just another obstacle in their way. Spade rubbed the sunburned tip of her nose and did not reply.

The short rest became an extended one, and Kat took the opportunity to check on Rei. Jared had set her down in the deepest patch of shade he could find, and she was half-sitting, half-lying against a few craggy rocks. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow, and she did not move or acknowledge Kat’s presence as she crouched in front of her.

“Rei? Are you awake?”

“Don’t know. Doesn’t feel like I am.”

A fly landed on Rei’s cheek, crawling across her face. When Rei did not twitch, Kat shooed it away. “Hang tight. Things will be OK.”

“They can’t get much worse than this, right?”

“Of course not,” Kat lied. “Hey, you never know. Maybe we’ll be sleeping indoors tonight.”

“Great,” Rei said tonelessly.

“It’s better than outside, right?” When Rei did not reply, Kat gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “We still have some water left. You should drink it.”

“Save it for yourself. Shit, give it to Jared. I’m not even walking… just being carried.” Her eyes opened for a brief second, then snapped shut. “I’m a burden. You know that. I’m slowing you all down, putting you all at risk. You can just walk off without me. I won’t mind. I probably won’t even notice.”

“ _No_ , Rei. I’ve said it before, the others have said it before as well, and we mean it. If we get to Flats Lagoon and you aren’t with us, then we’ve failed.”

“You won’t get as far as Flats Lagoon if you’re carrying me.”

“Right now, we’re just trying to get to the twins’ parents. They’re not too far. Little steps, yeah?”

“Fine, little steps, whatever. Just do me a favour and leave me somewhere the bandits won’t find me.”

They’d had this exhausting conversation before. Kat sat back on her cracked and bleeding heels, trying to ignore the dizziness that came with sudden movement. The blistering afternoon heat had turned the horizon into a smear of blue and orange, and the carrion-birds continued to circle in the sunlit sky. No matter how much she’d tried to avoid thinking about the birds, the scrawny flapping shadows had haunted her since they’d walked out of Admag. The scavengers knew more than they did. They were watching, and waiting, and preparing to close in.

“They won’t attack us, will they?” Pia said nervously, seeing Kat glance skywards.

“Not while we’re alive.”

Pia’s eyes widened. “You mean, they’re following us coz they think we’re gonna die?”

“I guess so.” Kat didn’t want to think about it, but the birds were probably eyeing Rei. She turned away, not wanting to look at Pia’s expression. “Jared. This place we’re going. It’s safe, right?”

“Safe enough.”

There was no safety in the world and they both knew it. Not even fools wandered into the wilderness unprepared, and yet here they all were — tired and underfed and dragging a half-dead girl across the arid hills of the Stenn. In the hopes of what, exactly? Kat had not forgotten Deion, how a dishonoured Shek like Ruka could so easily lose their kin-bonds. She caught Jared’s eye and knew that he had not given her an honest answer.

 _Approaching proud Shek warriors for help,_ she thought. _Just like in Admag. And look how well that turned out._

Spade was obviously thinking the same thing. “They could honour-duel us, Jared. They could _kill_ us. I’m not sure this is safety.”

“Don’t say that,” Kat said, as Rei stirred against her rock. But the silence that followed was laden with trepidation, and the occasional squawk of the waiting scavengers was enough to keep them on edge. Perhaps making straight for the waystation would have been a better option, but with the state everyone was in, the twins’ parents were an opportunity they could not afford to pass up.

“They didn’t hate us, you know,” Jared said eventually.

“Really.” The flatness in Spade’s voice betrayed no hint of a question. “We were a fucking disappointment to them, Jared.”

“Still, we made something of ourselves in the end. Right?”

“Tech Hunters. Then we got accused of smuggling.” She gave Jared a hard look. “And then we became slaves. Not exactly respectable for a Shek.”

Jared just shrugged. Pia clutched at her prayer beads, mumbling words to Okran that Kat couldn’t make out. Lekko dragged herself into the shade, the empty waterskin still in her hand. Spade picked up a rock from the path, hurling it left-handed at a carrion-bird that had landed nearby. It took off with a screech, leaving a number of scruffy dark feathers behind. Pia did not pick them up.

“Guess we should get moving,” Jared said finally.

It was a good ten minutes before they had gathered up their respective burdens and were ready to go. Jared took Rei, Spade the sword, and the three humans the bags. As they resumed their slow and painful pace, Kat fell into step beside Lekko and peered anxiously into her face.

“Are you OK?” she said.

“Yeah. Feeling better. Not so light-headed. Sorry if I scared you earlier.”

“Wasn’t your fault.”

“It was.” Her voice was quiet and muffled by swellings. “I should have known better. Shit, back in Okran’s Valley, I told Rei off for doing exactly the same thing I did. Fucked up in Squin. In the Holy Nation. The safehouse too. Haven’t been able to find food or water for the group, either… I’ve tried. But nothing has done anyone any good. It’s just made things worse.”

“That’s not true. Lekko, you said to me in Squin that all the pressure I was under had to go somewhere. And we’re stressed, we all are. Maybe you’re trying so hard to help, and putting yourself under so much pressure, that you’re finding it impossible. I know you’re good at stuff. Like first aid, and just looking after everyone else, but you can’t expect to be able to do all that when you’re stressed.”

“I’m not that stressed.”

“Lekko, we’re in the middle of a desert. We’re out of food. We’re almost out of water. The twins’ parents are our best shot at surviving, and they might not want anything to do with us. They could turn us away or worse. You can pretend you’re not worried about it, but I know you are.”

“Shit Kat, you’re starting to sound a lot more like an adult than me.”

“All the stuff with Rei and Taura and Deion in Admag, it made me realise a few things.” Kat hesitated, not wanting to ask, but unable to resist the question all the same. “What do you think’s wrong with her?”

“Rei? I’ve no idea. I don’t know how much of it’s a physical thing. How much of it’s… not. All I know how to do is bandage things up and stop them getting infected. I can’t diagnose people or anything like that.”

“Ava might have been able to help,” Kat said sadly. “But we’ll never get her out of that place now. She’ll die there.”

“I’m sorry, Kat. I know Admag was such a long shot, but I’d really hoped it’d pay off. For their sakes, and for yours.”

“They were good people. Deserved better than they got.”

“I know.” Lekko stumbled a little, even though the ground was flat and not too stony. Kat grabbed her by the arm and pulled her upright. “Sorry, Kat. We’re all feeling it, right? Fuck, we all need help.”

Kat didn’t need to look up to know the carrion-birds were still there. “Jared? Spade? How long till we get to your parents’ place?”

“Not that far,” Spade called from in front. “Just up the hill.”

 _Just up the hill_ might as well have been a hundred miles away. The hill in question was a steep, towering mound of yellow-brown rocks, with an ill-defined path leading up to the summit. Jared went ahead, scrabbling at rocks for support as the dust slid under his boots. Rei, who was being jolted about on his shoulder, made a little noise of discomfort but remained limp. Kat watched her dangling friend with a critical eye.

“She’ll throw up,” she warned.

“I don’t think she has anything _left_ to throw up,” Jared pointed out.

“Your funeral.”

“Let’s hope none of us end up needing a funeral,” Jared said, and they began the slow, laborious climb to the summit. The birds followed, landing on a nearby rock to watch them. Spade picked up another stone and threw it. They flapped away to a safer spot further up the path. Kat shook her head at Spade, who already had the next missile in her hand.

“Ignore them,” she said. “Don’t tire yourself out before we reach the top.”

“I _hate_ them,” Spade muttered fervently. “They’re just sitting there, gloating at us.”

Kat didn’t like the birds either. They were ugly things, with too many feathers where they didn’t need them and not enough where they did. Their necks were long and scrawny, their heads raw and naked. Worst of all were their eyes, black and glittering with anticipation. “They won’t hurt us.”

“I dunno,” Spade said, glowering at the carrion-birds. “Me and Jared, we grew up around these things. They’re total bastards.”

“Just like most things then,” said Kat, rubbing at the teeth marks the Fogman had left in her arm.

“Yeah, I guess you have a point.”

The path steepened further still as they neared the summit. At points, Kat feared Jared might fall — or faint — and send them all tumbling like rocks down the hillside. She opted to crawl rather than try and stand, pulling herself through the dust one pained movement at a time. Soon her knees were scraped and sore with grit, and her skin burned from where it had touched the hot ground. Eventually, however, they reached a flatter section just before the summit. As if by unspoken agreement they all came to a stop, too exhausted by the climb to go any farther.

“Well, we made it this far,” Jared said.

The hillside cut away steeply not far from where Kat was lying. She wriggled to the edge and peered downwards. They’d come a long way; the path where Lekko had collapsed was far below them. Kat had no idea how they’d managed to make so much progress, but the feeling of triumph was soon overshadowed by the prospect of meeting with potentially hostile Shek.

“Flatskins should probably wait here,” Spade said, glancing at the three humans. “And Rei.”

“Might be best.” Jared exhaled audibly. “Shall we go?”

“Good luck,” Kat told them.

Spade smiled faintly and turned away, her hand on the back of Jared’s shoulder. Kat, Lekko and Pia sat and watched the twins as they made their way up the final stretch of hill, disappearing over the ridge.

“Guess all we can do is wait,” said Lekko.

* * *

Ava was waiting.

She wasn’t quite sure what she was waiting for, but she was waiting all the same. There was always some form of waiting to be done. When she wasn’t waiting for food — food which rarely materialised — she was waiting to go back to sleep or, if the guards were particularly bored, waiting for violence. She’d seen plenty of violence today, but for once it hadn’t been directed at her. Sharing a cellblock with a new arrival made for an excellent shield, and things hurt less than they had in a long, long time.

On the outside, at least.

She was lying in much the same position as the one she’d slept in, curled up on the dusty floor of the cage and taking in the eye-level view of rusted bars and the stinking piss-bucket. She could feel the gritty sores on the side of her face from where it had been pressed to the ground, and the itchy little bites that some pest had left on the soft flesh of her hands. Lice or rodents perhaps, though the primary suspect was currently sitting in the cage with her, scuttling across the ground about six inches from her nose.

Oval-shaped body, dark flattened wings, antennae that tasted the stale air and searched out food. It obviously liked the gloom of this particular cellblock, because she’d seen it around before. Ava watched the waving antennae for a moment and wondered if cockroaches were good to eat.

Only a month ago Ava might have felt shame at her own thoughts — back in the days when she’d still thought herself more human than animal. But hunger was more powerful than shame or revulsion or some philosophical notion of personhood, and her hands snatched at the cockroach before she could control herself. She missed, her muscles spasming from the unaccustomed movement, and the cockroach escaped through the bars before she could try again. It scurried away, heading off in search of a food source that was a little safer.

Ava let her hands fall, still shocked by her own reactions. The Vault had already seeped into her head, swallowing her sanity just as sand swallowed water. She knew enough about the human mind to know that being isolated in a cramped, dark space did terrible things for the spirit.

Except she wasn’t isolated anymore.

She moved her head just a little, trying to see past the bars of her cage. After a month in this cellblock her eyes had adapted to the darkness, but she still couldn’t see so far without her goggles and the new prisoner’s outline was slightly blurred. She imagined he was sitting with the blind stare of a man who’d just been plunged into physical — and spiritual — darkness. Judging by his earlier muffled protests, the Warden had followed through on his threat to have him gagged. As much as she despised what most Okranites stood for, she still felt the tiniest twinge of pity for him.

“I thought I’d be the only Okranite in here,” she said. Her voice was hoarser than she remembered. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Her greeting was returned with silent, frosty disapproval. _Of course he doesn’t want a woman talking to him._ Or maybe she’d spoken wrong — it was difficult to remember how to speak to people, after all. The last person she’d spoken to had been Ruka, and the words had lodged so firmly in her throat she’d almost choked on them.

_Ruka._

At this point, Ava had no idea if Ruka still lived. It had been almost two weeks and she had heard nothing from her — although she conceded any talk between Ruka and Luquin would be quiet enough to pass beneath her notice. But even so Ava had listened hard, longing for just a snatch of conversation that would confirm her friend was alive. The only conversations she’d been able to hear had been those of the guards. Ava no longer knew if she wanted Ruka to be alive or not.

It felt a little strange, thinking about Ruka in the presence of another Okranite. Indeed, Ava had often asked herself if she’d really done the right thing by Okran, allowing herself to fraternise with darkened. Shek were Narko’s beasts, beasts that needed to be cleansed either by sword or holy fire. The priests had always taught that they were stupid and brutish, incapable of feeling any emotion that wasn’t blind rage…

But Ruka hadn’t been like that.

Ava still remembered the moment she’d looked Ruka in the eyes and realised just how hurt and _human_ she was. Her previously held beliefs had faltered at that moment, and she’d spent the year that followed wrestling with the concept that maybe, just maybe, nothing was born belonging to Narko.

Ava knew her flatskin ways had left Ruka utterly baffled when she’d first encountered them, just as Ruka’s ideals had seemed entirely foreign to Ava. While Ava had tried to stay polite about it, however, Ruka’s curiosity had been open and childlike. Ava had done her best to answer Ruka’s questions, even untying her hair so she could see what it looked like when it was loose.

“I suppose this must be a novelty to you,” she’d said at the time, as Ruka twiddled strands of hair between her fingers. “You haven’t met many humans, I’m guessing.”

“Not unless you count fighting them.”

“Oh, yeah.” Until recently, they’d been on opposite sides of a long war. “Okranites. Like me.”

“You aren’t like the paladins,” Ruka said. “You came to the Shek Kingdom, for a start.”

“I guess. And you seem all right.” _All right_ had felt faintly damning, both for Ruka and herself. “But I’ve still not made up my mind about you.”

“Likewise, flatskin,” Ruka said, giving Ava’s hair an experimental tug.

“Fuck! Don’t pull it!”

“Oh.” Ruka let go of her hair at once. “Did I hurt you?”

“Yeah… uh, it’s fine. Please don’t,” Ava added, paling as Ruka reached for her sword. “I don’t need the Shek apology ritual. Leave the big fuck-off weapon for when we want to kill things.”

“Shek apology ritual? Isn’t that how flatskins apologise too?”

“No! We just… we say we’re sorry. And we don’t use – please stop looking at your sword, it’s making me nervous.”

“I’m not looking at it.”

“And _that’s_ personal.” Ava slapped Ruka’s hand away from the prayer beads sticking out of her pocket. “I don’t want a darkened—” She stopped, drawing in a sharp breath as she realised what she’d just said. “Shit. We are _worlds_ apart. Maybe this isn’t going to work.”

Ruka’s eyes flashed. For a second she looked so warriorlike that Ava flinched away. “Do you _want_ to stay alive, flatskin?” she snapped. “Or do you want to end up as food for the carrion-birds?”

They stared at each other for a second. Ava thought of all the danger she’d faced on her way to Squin, and all the danger she’d be facing now she’d left the relative safety of Stack. Something stirred inside her, a stubborn anger that almost matched Ruka’s. “No,” she said. “I want to live.”

“Then, flatskin, I swear on my honour that I’ll do everything I can to keep you alive until we reach the United Cities. After that, it’s your call if you want us to part ways.”

“Understood,” Ava said, trying not to think too much about this arrangement. “But that doesn’t mean I trust you.”

“We Shek keep our word, even hornless like me. You Okranites have no such code. It is I who should mistrust _you.”_

“Oh… fair enough, I suppose.”

They’d ended up trusting each other, of course. Journeying through Venge together, with all its associated dangers, had been enough to firmly cement that friendship. They hadn’t lingered long in Venge, all too aware of the spiders and gutters and strange headless Skeletons that lurked in the darkness — but when the sun had begun to rise, they’d found themselves still within range of the burning solar beams. Ava had been afraid then. Not just for herself, but for a _Shek._

And so they had run for their lives, and Okran had not thrown pillars of fire in their path. It had been with enormous relief that they’d finally collapsed, breathless and exhausted, into a blinding dust-storm far away from the beams of death.

“Venge,” Ruka yelled over the howl of the swirling sand. “Remind me to never fucking go there again. Are you all right?”

“I – I think so…” Ava tried to sit up and was immediately smacked in the face by dozens of tiny sharp particles of gritty sand. Ruka pulled her closer, shielding her from the worst of the flying debris. She was shaking just as much as Ava was, though Ava suspected it was from adrenaline rather than fear. “You saved my life, taking down that gutter. Thank you.”

“Yeah, well. This world is dangerous. You still want to become one of those Tech Hunter types?”

“Maybe not in Venge.”

Ruka chuckled and helped Ava up from the ground. Her hands were reassuringly strong. “Good rule to have. C’mon, let’s see if we can get out of this dust-storm.”

Their dishevelled and slightly bloodied arrival in Heng had brought relief and uncertainty in equal measure. As they’d sat in the upstairs room of a flophouse, using their limited resources to get themselves cleaned up, Ruka had finally asked the question Ava had been dreading. “Well, we’re in a nice big city. You could get by with those healing hands of yours, and it seems safe enough. So tell me. Where do we both go from here?”

Ava, who’d been trying to get dust out of her hair with a damp cloth, looked up from her task. “What do you mean?” she said carefully.

“I said I’d get you to the United Cities, didn’t I? Now it’s your call.”

“Oh.” Ava put the cloth down. “Well, what do _you_ want to do?”

“Fuck knows,” Ruka said, but Ava suspected she was lying.

Ava twisted her hands in her lap, trying to organise her thoughts. “I think… I think maybe it’s best if we don’t go our separate ways. Being alone, it’s kind of hard, and besides…” She blushed — not that Ruka would have seen the blush under her sunburn. “I wouldn’t be here right now if it hadn’t been for you. I’d like to repay the favour somehow. We could get a house or something. Maybe we could go to the coast. I’ve always wanted to live near the sea.”

Ruka’s gaze was piercing. “You don’t mind living with a darkened?”

“That’s…” Ava stared at the wall. “I – look, I’m not going to pretend this isn’t weird. But if goodness is burning people alive and murdering people for owning books… and if darkness is being an honourable person… maybe the Okranite faith’s gotten a little twisted around. I don’t know. I’m figuring things out. But while I’m figuring things out, maybe we should stick together. So we aren’t alone. If you’d like that. I mean, you might not want to have anything to do with flatskins, and I’m an Okranite flatskin as well, so if you _would_ rather we separate, I—”

“Staying together,” Ruka interrupted. “Sounds good.”

For the first time since fleeing Stack, for the first time since she’d lost her father, Ava smiled. It made a refreshing change from the forced one she’d been putting on up until this point. “Well then. Even if the Holy Nation hasn’t put a bounty on my head, which they will have done, I’ll _definitely_ be considered a heretic now. And you know what? They can burn in fire, for all I care. I’m not one of them anymore.” She shook out the cloth and inspected her braid. “Urgh, this stuff _clings._ It’s not coming out at all.”

“You could try untying it and using that spiky thing.”

“Uh, you mean the comb?”

“Whatever it’s called. I can help you if you want.”

Ava hesitated. “I guess you can have a go. Just be careful with it, please. No yanking. Hair isn’t like horns.”

They sat together on Ava’s bed, Ava stifling a yawn as Ruka combed the dust out of her hair — painstakingly, and very gently. In that moment Ava was filled with such a trust and safety that she leaned against Ruka’s shoulder and closed her eyes.

“Ava?” Ruka sounded stunned. “Ava, I can’t help you if you—”

“Ava,” Ava murmured.

“What?”

“You called me Ava. I don’t think you’ve ever called me anything other than _flatskin.”_

She felt Ruka shrug. “You aren’t like a normal flatskin.”

“Huh… I’m honoured…” This time she didn’t suppress the yawn. She wondered if she was about to fall asleep on Ruka.

“You know,” Ruka began, “what you said about your own people…”

“Mm?”

“Maybe my people got a few things wrong too. Shit, we’re supposed to be enemies and yet we’ve been travelling together… fighting things together too. You might not have done much with that crappy little katana of yours, but you were the one who worked out how to kill that gutter. Maybe we aren’t actually as different as we thought…” She trailed off, her voice becoming sad. “Or maybe we’re just both outcasts.”

“I don’t care if I’m an outcast,” Ava said.

“No? What if our cultures were right all along?”

Ava sat up. “Is that what you think, then? We’re in the wrong here?”

“Dunno. How can friendship be wrong?”

Friendship. Ava laughed a little, not entirely sure how to feel about it, and took the comb from Ruka. “You look exhausted, and you’ll be here all night if you try and sort my hair out. Get some sleep.”

Ava had intended to sleep too — her hair would just have to stay sandy until she had a proper chance to wash it — but her head was too full of thoughts. Even her heavy eyelids weren’t enough to lure her into slumber…

Boots rang out against metal flooring, splintering the scene. Ava scrabbled at that fleeting memory of warm contentment but it slid from her grasp, landing her back in the prison. The cold iron and lingering death closed in around her once again as the guards strode into her cellblock.

“Inquisitor Valtena.” The Warden’s voice was contemptuous as he stared into the face of the new prisoner. “A true loss for the Holy Nation… You know, Emperor Tengu’s _very_ pleased with his new outpost. Perhaps if you’re lucky, he’ll even send an Okranite noble to look after it for you…”

Stifled but furious sounds erupted from the prisoner. Ava lay still on the ground, listening in without making it too obvious that she _was_ listening. She’d never really appreciated the art of being unworthy of notice, not until Tengu’s Vault, but it had saved her plenty of beatings before now.

 _Inquisitor Valtena._ That could only mean one thing… she was witnessing the beginnings of a war between Okranite and imperial. A true war, not just a simmering enmity that had lasted multiple generations…

“A shame our dear emperor is a little too occupied to pay you a visit.” A humourless grin spread into the Warden’s voice. “I suppose my company will have to do… all right, bring him downstairs.”

Ava shivered as the guards left with the Inquisitor. She had the horrible suspicion that it wasn’t just Valtena who’d be suffering as a result of this war. Being an Okranite in Tengu’s Vault was about to get even more painful.


	2. Shield

They were calling it Tengu’s Shield these days. Marisa might not have been in a position to find out political information for herself, but she knew that much.

It had been an anxious day or two, trying to second guess Lord Aramid’s next move as far as they were concerned — second-guessing, because she hadn’t seen him since dinner the previous night, and she had no idea where he even was right now. In some ways she was glad he wasn’t around; her head was such a scramble of thoughts she wasn’t sure she’d be able to form any coherent questions to ask him.

But she did miss the company.

It was oddly lonely, convalescing in a house so detached from the outside world and yet so utterly part of it. She could have been sitting in the middle of Blister Hill for all the resemblance Lord Aramid’s house bore to anything else in the empire. Only the stuffy desert heat and the achingly blue skies beyond the window-veils told her that she was in the capital of the United Cities, the mightiest place in all the world.

Marisa knew it was a security risk to have the windows open, but after sweating against the mattress for hours, she’d finally caved and asked Cassie to open them for her. Even the narrowest crack of fresh air was enough to blow a soft breeze into the room, and to make her feel like she was actually participating in the world outside. Street traders — mostly bugmen, from the high pitch of their voices — hawked their suspiciously-acquired jewellery. The smells of southern spices and colognes, of generator fuel and garru dung all wafted through the draped veils.

There had been a town-messenger earlier. If she listened hard, Marisa thought she could still hear his voice at the far side of town, carrying on the breeze. _“Praise to the emperor! A victory for the United Cities! Tengu’s Shield—”_

The same cries, nothing new. Marisa longed for updates, or something else that would take her mind off the nervous boredom, but the mundane sounds of trading and commerce were all that surrounded her. She wished the windows were low enough to see through.

“What do you think it’s like out there?” she said to Cassie.

Cassie tipped her head to the side, as if wondering why she’d been asked. Marisa tapped her fingers against the sheets and stared up at the ceiling. Surely Cassie had some experience with cities. “You must have been to a market before. Maybe not in Heft, but Bark, I guess?” She paused, looking over at the girl. “Where _are_ you from, anyway?”

Marisa hadn’t been expecting a verbal response, of course, but Cassie’s carefully impassive face still unnerved her. “You know, whoever you were before, wherever you came from, it doesn’t make a difference to me. None of it matters. I’m sure Lord Aramid would feel the same way.”

Still nothing. Marisa shrugged, watching a cobweb drift high on the ceiling. “I’m sure you’ve seen more of the world than I have. I never really got to see much of any place. Not even Bark. So many parts of Bark I never went. Like the swamp-houses on the waterfront. Why swamp-houses? We’re miles from the swamps… I mean, sometimes I accompanied Lady Sanda when she was hunting. Walked along the coast, or on the dunes. Only the last time I did that, things didn’t go so well.” She frowned at the memory. “You know I hate garru, right? He had a fucking garru. Armour’s pretty shit when something that size tries to trample you.”

Cassie made a little noise, signalling interest, but Marisa had little else to add to her ramblings. “Do you think he’s all right?” she said finally. “Lord Aramid, I mean?”

Cassie thought for a moment, then signed her response. Firstly by running one hand over her chin, secondly by putting her hands together, thirdly by running her finger across her throat and tilting her eyebrows.

“What?”

Cassie sighed and repeated the motions. Suddenly it became clearer, and Marisa shivered. “You think that because he’s from the Holy Nation, he could be in trouble.” It was a sobering thought, and one that had crossed Marisa’s mind multiple times over the last day. “Thanks, Cassie. That really makes me feel better.”

 _You asked,_ her face seemed to say, and she picked up the sweeping-brush. Marisa rubbed her forehead and hoped Lord Aramid would return before the sun went down.

As it turned out, Lord Aramid was back by mid-afternoon. Hearing the sound of the door, Marisa urgently gestured for Cassie to shut the windows again. She did as she was told, poking them with the pole hook until that refreshing little draft was nothing more than a memory. As she was putting the hook away, there came the sound of footsteps moving towards them, and Lord Aramid stepped into the room. Unable to stand for him, Marisa did the next best thing and pulled herself into a sitting position. “My lord,” she said, dipping her head respectfully.

“Marisa.” Lord Aramid’s face was unreadable, even as she anxiously scanned it. “Come with me. Just you,” he added, as Cassie helped her to her crutches. “Not Cassie.”

Surely the summons could mean nothing good. Her mouth suddenly dry, Marisa followed him into the main room of the house. Using the crutches was more of a struggle these days; this new, sedentary lifestyle hadn’t helped her fitness levels. When she sat at the table, it also occurred to her that she’d been eating far too much. Boredom eating, mostly. She crossed her fingers and hoped that Lord Aramid wouldn’t think the extra weight was anything more than muscle.

“How have you been keeping?” Lord Aramid said.

“Well enough, my lord.”

“And your leg?”

“Still healing.”

“It still hurts?”

Only a few short days ago she’d nearly fainted from the pain. She’d had to suffer the indignity of Cassie dragging her back to bed. “It’s not so bad, my lord.”

He let out a slight hiss of exasperation from between his teeth. “Must you lie to me?”

“I’m sorry, my lord. It’s still painful.”

“It should be healing better than this.” Lord Aramid frowned. “And you don’t look well, either.”

Marisa swallowed. She’d been feeling mostly fine, but she was starting to get the sense Lord Aramid’s keen eye had noticed something she hadn’t.

“Lady Sanda had you walking through the desert for… how many days was it, again?”

“Three days, my lord.”

“Three days, plus the time it took you to get to Heft. And yet, you’ve been under my roof for two weeks, and the wound has shown little sign of improvement. The fact you are still alive is, quite frankly, only due to Okran’s grace and the skills of several doctors. People have died from lesser wounds.”

“Samurai don’t die easily, my lord.”

“Perhaps not. You desert folk seem tough… Still, I think you will agree with me that things have not gone to plan.”

A sudden jolt of icy fear clawed at Marisa’s stomach. Lord Aramid noticed her expression and gave her a smile which seemed rather forced. “My dear girl, I’m not giving up on you just yet. Rest assured that you are still useful to me.”

 _Useful._ “I’m glad to hear it, my lord. I wouldn’t want to be useless.”

“And as for things not going to plan… well, let us discuss that a little further.”

Lord Aramid called for sake. A servant — Marisa thought her name was Hesper, though she wasn’t sure — arrived bearing a tray with two sake cups on it. Lord Aramid passed one of them to Marisa. “You don’t drink, do you?”

“Not really, my lord,” she faltered, not wanting to decline the offering.

“Regardless, I think you may appreciate this after what I’m about to tell you.”

Marisa took in a breath, staring at her sake cup. Lord Aramid took a sip from his own cup, then carefully replaced it on the table.

“I’m sure you are wondering where I’ve been today,” he said once Hesper had gone. “The truth is, I was summoned to the palace. Okran’s Shield — do excuse me, I mean _Tengu’s_ Shield — is in need of noble leadership. Our dear emperor has suggested that I may be the ideal person to oversee it.”

Marisa stared at him uncomprehendingly.

“I can only guess at his thinking. A strategically important border outpost, overseen by an Okranite rather than an imperial-born citizen, might help to ease tensions just a little on the Okranite side of things. That being said, I’m not entirely convinced that’s all there is to it. Lady Emika may well have been whispering in Tengu’s ear… she’d be utterly delighted to see me out of the capital. She sees me as a threat, and sending me to the frontlines would be an effective way to get me out of the picture for good.”

“So we’re going to Okran’s Shield, my lord,” she said quietly.

“I’m afraid so.”

“I see.”

“I do apologise for the sudden news. We must prepare to leave at a moment’s notice. It may be tomorrow that Tengu decides to send us, it may be two weeks from now, but when he does we must be ready.” He drained the rest of his sake and gestured for her to drink up. “I did warn Tengu that not all my household was in a fit state to travel, but he seemed to think you could handle it, having already captured the doctor woman.”

“He thinks highly of me then.”

“For a commoner he certainly does. Your reputation is one to be envied… or perhaps not. We’ll have to help you live up to those expectations. I’ll make sure you have some new armour. A new sword. A new leg, if I can source you a decent one that’s properly adapted for your height. The leg Lady Sanda gave you was too short, and you were dropping your hip when you walked. I imagine it’ll need to be custom-made, but that’s no issue. A skilled craftsman might be able to make a prosthesis within a day or two. We’ll need to speak to one as soon as possible.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You know what I said yesterday,” he reminded her gently. “Don’t be afraid.”

“But _you’re_ afraid, my lord.”

For all the times she’d spoken out of turn, she was sure she’d gone too far on this occasion. But all Lord Aramid did was shake his head with a sigh. “There are worse places to be. I wouldn’t want to be the Shield’s previous overseer, for instance. Tengu holds no love for Inquisitors.”

Marisa drained the sake in one shot, trying her best to ignore the flavour she had already come to dislike. “My lord, what do we do?”

 _“Do?_ We cannot disobey the emperor’s instruction, Marisa.”

“I understand that, my lord,” she said carefully. “I just thought that perhaps—”

“You thought that perhaps I had a clever ploy?” Marisa didn’t answer. “You place rather too much faith in me to have a solution to every problem that comes my way. Unfortunately, things will not look good for us if we refuse and besides, I cannot deny that ruling over the Shield is a step up from my current rather awkward existence here in Heft. I know the way Tengu thinks, and this is tantamount to fully accepting me into the Inner Circle. It’s a great honour. Of course, I can think of many reasons why accepting his offer is unwise… but it would be far more unwise to decline.”

“I see, my lord.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he said sharply. “Even given the news, you seem a little out of sorts.”

“My lord, I—”

“Marisa, the sands between here and the Shield are not as dangerous as they were, not now the paladins have been pushed back into the west. But any journey carries risk, and we still have skimmers and rebels to contend with. I need you to be able to walk for several days in a hot, dusty environment and on a wound that hasn’t healed yet. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, my lord.”

She was sure he was going to challenge her — his eyes were already narrowing — but to her relief he let it slide. “It’s a pity you haven’t had a chance to see the rest of the city. I would have liked to have shown you the markets.”

Marisa blushed, wondering if Lord Aramid had somehow found out about her earlier conversation with Cassie. “I hear they’re held in high renown, my lord.”

“I would say they’re rated a little more highly than they perhaps deserve. I prefer not to have my pockets picked by thieving bugmen… but there are one or two useful places to visit, if you know who to speak to.” He smiled briefly. “Speaking of bugmen, I hear our prisoner has been giving the emperor quite a time.”

“Our prisoner?” Marisa said, thinking of Ava.

“The World’s End scientist. As I think I’ve mentioned before, he’d be instrumental in helping the United Cities with their war efforts, if only he were willing to cooperate. Personally, I wouldn’t trust him in the slightest… Now, have you plans for the rest of the day?”

Marisa’s brow furrowed. Of course she didn’t have plans. The days had been one long, continuous haze ever since she’d started working for Lord Aramid. That haze had only been vaguely broken up with books and food and the occasional intense pain from the stump of her leg. “No, my lord.”

“I visited the markets on my way back from the palace, and managed to acquire the pieces for a game the Okranites play to amuse themselves. It’s something of a game of strategy, but I must confess I’m rather out of practice. Will you play it with me?”

“I – of course, my lord.”

He smiled a more genuine smile at that and cleared the sake cups to the side. “A game now, perhaps?”

“If you wish, my lord,” Marisa replied, sure the game would turn out to be another test of her abilities. Trying to focus while her mind was jumping and jerking like a fish out of water felt like an impossible task right now. “I – I’m not sure I’ll be a worthy opponent, my lord, as I don’t understand the rules—”

“You put yourself down too much, Marisa. Trust in the skills you have.”

He laid a board on the table between them and started unpacking wooden figurines from the box. As he was setting them on the board, Marisa picked up one of the figurines and found herself staring back at the intricately carved shape of a bird wreathed in fire.

“The phoenix,” Lord Aramid said without looking up. “Put it back.”

Marisa returned it to the table. “That’s the name given to the leader of the Holy Nation.”

“Quite. Except, the phoenix symbolises many other things in doctrine. Spiritual strength, renewal, the forging of something dangerous out of a crucible.” He pointed to another piece on the board, a sneering woman with enormous, Shek-like horns. “As a symbol, Narko is often seen as a surface-level representation of evil and unholiness. But when these pieces are used in fortune telling, she may signify a challenge. A means of growing stronger.”

“Okranites do fortune telling?”

“It’s an old practice that was stamped out with the advent of the newest incarnation of the Phoenix, blessed be his name. Perhaps they’ll turn to it again now times are changing… or perhaps not.” He placed Narko on his side of the board. Marisa looked at her own side, but the phoenix stood in Narko’s place. “I try not to read too much into divination. Knowing the future is for Okran, not for men.”

“So what are the rules to this game, my lord?”

“Each piece moves in a certain way. Your task is to spot the patterns and win the game.”

“I see.”

“Sometimes we must play unknown games and work out the rules for ourselves before they cost us. It may not look like it, but this is survival training.” He inclined his head. “Your move.”

Not a test, but training. Marisa gulped, her hand moving towards the phoenix.

“Not that one,” Lord Aramid said, not taking his eyes off the board.

She picked up another, a man clothed in a loose robe. The paint was faded and flaking, but she could tell that it had once been orange. Somehow the sight of it sent a nervous shiver down the full length of her spine. Keen to see the back of it, she pushed it across the board towards Lord Aramid. He smiled, moving Narko forward.

“You told me I couldn’t move the phoenix,” she protested.

“And so you can’t.”

“But you moved Narko, and she sits in the same position.”

“Well spotted, but you don’t understand the rules yet. Pay close attention.”

But as the game went on, Marisa’s attention began to slip. The room was too hot, and she hadn’t slept well the previous night. The more she lost focus, the more careless she became. When the fog lifted, all but one of her pieces had been removed from the board and set neatly to the side. The phoenix was lying on its tile with Narko sneering over it. Marisa stared silently at them, wondering if Lord Aramid might be about to take back the things he’d formerly said about her intelligence.

“You weren’t focusing,” he said calmly.

“I’m sorry, my lord.”

“Don’t be sorry. You aren’t feverish, are you?”

“I – I don’t think so,” she mumbled, feeling her forehead.

“Regardless, you should probably lie down.” His face radiated concern. “Do you need help?”

“Oh, I—” She blushed. “I think I can manage, my lord.”

“You’re definitely out of sorts,” he observed, hooking her arm around his shoulder so she could lean on him. Underneath the lavender, she could detect the faint scent of spices from the market stalls. “I haven’t seen a face that shifty in a while. And I keep all sorts of company.”

“Sorry, my lord.”

It was evident that Cassie had not been expecting Marisa’s return to the room so soon. She’d stripped the bed bare, and when she saw Marisa and Lord Aramid, her expression was one of horror. She quickly ushered Marisa onto a chair, scurrying around as she hastily re-made the bed with the clean sheets.

“You do impress me, Cassie,” Lord Aramid remarked. “For someone who hasn’t had training.”

Cassie dipped a quick curtsey of thanks, but her face was taut. When the bed was ready she moved to help Marisa, but Lord Aramid waved her aside. “Don’t worry, Cassie. I’ve got her.”

He ended up picking Marisa up to put her in the bed, and once again Marisa was reminded of the weight she’d probably gained. But if he found her too heavy he gave no outward sign of it, and when he laid her head against the pillows it was with something akin to tenderness. “Are you comfortable?” he asked her.

Marisa nodded, suddenly very tired.

“Be sure to tell Cassie if you need anything. Understood?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Lord Aramid left, and Cassie pulled the stool up to Marisa’s bedside. Her eyes were large and worried. Marisa forced a smile, trying not to let her fear show. “You think he’ll let me have the window open?”

The windows… had Cassie really closed them earlier? She was sure she could feel the breeze on her face. The smell of lavender still hung in the air from Lord Aramid’s presence, a gentle scent that reminded her of Lady Sanda. Outside the noble-house, the waves rolled on the sand, smoothing the rough edges off a hundred pieces of sea glass just like the pendant she wore around her neck. _But I’m not home. This isn’t my home. It’s wrong._

Cassie put her hand on top of Marisa’s. Somehow the touch was comforting, like the cool sea breeze that came from nowhere, and yet soothed her into sleep.

* * *

After six years, they were finally going home. Home, or whatever it was they wanted to call the place; perhaps it was simply a reminder of the life neither had been cut out for. Jared and Spade stood side-by-side on the dusty track, staring at the still-distant but familiar house, as the wind whistled over the rocks and blew pale grit into their faces.

“Well,” Spade said, “I guess we’re back.”

“We’re back,” Jared echoed, wondering if they were really going to humble themselves in front of their parents. But they’d come this far and, as much as he hated to admit it, the place held a kind of wistful nostalgia that he’d thought long buried. “You think they’re gonna be pissed off with us?”

“Almost certainly.”

Their eyes met. Jared suddenly remembered all the previous times they’d failed to live up to expectations. _Pissed off_ felt like something of an understatement. “If they turn us away, we’re screwed,” he said. Without food or water, their journey to the waystation was over. No tricks, no cheats, no sleight of hand or deceitful hustling would get them out of that particular mess. He hadn’t wanted to say as much to the others, but he knew they’d thought it too. They’d struggle to navigate the Stenn without so much as a waterskin between the six of them, and there were spiders and bonedogs out in the wastes. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t have a backup plan.”

Spade chuckled uneasily. “Don’t say that. You’re smart. You’ll think of one.”

“Yeah well, don’t put too much faith in me. I’ve barely been able to think at all, these past few days.”

“If you don’t have your wits, and I don’t have my sword hand…” Spade clutched at her wrist for a second. “What have the pair of us got?”

“Loving parents?” Jared said sardonically.

“Yeah… we’d better hope this works out.”

“Three disgraced hornless. Three flatskins, and one of them’s an Okranite. I don’t know, Spade. Maybe we’re making a mistake.”

“We don’t have another option.” She rubbed the ends of her horns, still rough from where the slavers had sawn them away. “I know we promised ourselves that we’d never come back here, and I know you wouldn’t have suggested it if there was an alternative. And… I guess I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about it, back in Squin.”

“It’s OK.” Jared found himself staring at the sand. There was a lot of it up here, pale and dazzlingly bright in the sunlight. The unease began to prickle at his scalp.

“What is it, Jar? What’s wrong?”

“Look at the sand.” His instincts, well-honed from half a decade as a Tech Hunter, were already screaming _Run._ “There’s no footprints.”

“So? It’s breezy up here. They’d just get blown away.”

“I don’t think so.” The dust up here was a few inches deep. He lifted one foot, attempting to scuff his own tracks. Spade caught him as he swayed into her. “It’d take a while for any footprints to be covered…” That pale sand, soft yet oddly coarse, was spread evenly across the ground. “I can’t hear any signs of life, Spade. I’m not sure this place is still inhabited.”

Spade’s face was pale grey. “Are you sure, Jar?”

“No. I could be wrong. I hope I am.”

“We should go to the house.”

The front of the house was cloaked in shadow, and their vision, which had been bombarded with bright sunlight since morning, struggled to adjust. Jared blinked at the door, but all he could make out was itching, blurring darkness. He wondered how much of that was due to the fact he hadn’t eaten properly in days. “I can’t see much.”

“I’m gonna knock,” Spade said, curling her good hand into a fist. But the door swung open at her touch, accompanied by a creak loud enough to make both of them jump.

In spite of the heat, Jared suddenly felt very cold. Now he knew where that strange prickling sensation had come from. It was the same feeling he’d had when the pair of them had entered the ruined University — only now, the crunching ash under their feet had been replaced with crunching dust. The desolate silence was broken only by the tuneless hum of the wind.

“Shit, Jared,” Spade breathed. “You were right.”

“We got this, right?” Jared said, trying to persuade himself more so than Spade. “We’ve seen plenty of shit before, and not just World’s End, either.”

“I don’t know, Jar.” Spade was still staring at the doorway. Realising he’d have to take charge or they’d never move from where they were standing now, Jared stepped past her and into the house the pair of them had once called their home.

The twins’ upbringing hadn’t been a luxurious one. Even before they’d been sent to the barracks, life had been militaristic and home comforts had been few and far between. But, as they both looked around a house that was entirely empty, Jared realised just how much of an impact a few pieces of shoddy furniture had on a room. There was no sign of the thin, uncomfortable mattresses they’d slept on, nor was there any sign of the table they’d eaten at. Even the stairs to the roof, crumbling and half-collapsed, were best left to memory. Spade sat on the bottom step, her face in her hands. Jared sat next to her. The room was cold, and for a few long moments filled with nothing but deep, empty silence.

“They’re gone,” Jared said finally.

“Yeah.” Spade drew in a shuddering breath and rubbed her eyes. “They’re gone.”

“Do you think they left after we did?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He certainly wasn’t prepared to get up and check the place for signs of a struggle. “Or… do you think this place was attacked?”

“I don’t know. And they’re gone anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“It kind of does. They’re our kin.”

“Our _kin?”_ Spade nearly spat the word. “They’re not kin. They’re just the people who raised us.” She ripped up a splintered piece of wood from the edge of the stairs and threw it at the wall. “I don’t care if they’re dead. And I don’t care at all about this fucking house—”

“It’s OK to be upset about it, you know.”

“I’m not upset!”

“Are you sure? This is where we grew up, Spade. We learned to fight in the yard. And there were nesting birds just over the rocks, remember? I used to do that whistling thing, and they’d hop right into my hand. And we’d go onto the Stenn and hunt down bonedog nests and bring back the meat, and on cold nights we’d lie in that corner under the pelts and talk about what we wanted to do with our lives. You remember all that, right?”

“Of course I remember,” Spade said bitterly. “You tamed one of those birds and our parents smashed the nest because they said you’d turn into some weak hornless. That damn bonedog nearly tore you limb from limb and you wouldn’t cry because you knew you’d be punished for it. You showed me a card trick at dinner and our parents made you sleep in the cold. And that’s just the stuff they did to _you.”_ She stopped, glaring at the bare, dusty walls. “I don’t get why _you’re_ upset.”

“Because we have nothing, Padey.”

Spade stared at him incredulously. “You haven’t called me that since before we left the Tech Hunters.”

The realisation was jarring. Jared hesitated; they were alone, he had an opportunity. “Look, about what happened in Sho-Battai. We need to have a—”

“Spade? Jared? Guys?” It was Pia, there was no mistaking it. Even if Jared hadn’t known her for years, there was such a range of accents among the group he’d have placed that worried little Okranite voice in an instant. “Are you here? Are you OK?”

“You can come in,” Jared said as Pia’s form appeared in the doorway. “Don’t feel like you have to loiter.”

“Oh.” Pia crossed over the threshold, rubbing at her bare arms. “I’m guessing it wasn’t like this when you left, right?”

“I’m sorry, Pia.” She was a sweet kid. He should have made sure she stayed in Flotsam where it was safe. “Did you come to check on us?”

She nodded.

“We wouldn’t want to keep you for long in case the others worry, but if you want to sit down for a bit, feel free.”

Pia perched on the edge of the bottom step. Jared scooted up to give her more room. She frowned at the empty house, lost in thought, then looked up at Jared with suddenly wide eyes. “I dunno if this helps any, but it kind of looks like they packed everything up and then left. Maybe they went to Squin or Admag, there were lots of people there…”

“Maybe,” Jared said dully. “But the truth is, we’ve no way of knowing. They could have joined up with Kral’s Chosen for all we know. And if they left because it was bad memories, that’s our fault. We should have spoken to them, tried to get in touch…”

“I mean,” Pia said, “you had your reasons, right? Just like they had theirs. Maybe this – maybe this just wasn’t the right place for any of you.”

“I appreciate it, Pia.”

“You can cry if you want to.” She put her arm around Jared’s shoulders. _“I’d_ cry, if I went back to the old house in Blister Hill and my parents weren’t there and it was all empty. I won’t think any less of you if you want to cry.”

“I think we’re a little dehydrated for tears, Pia.”

Pia faltered. “I’m sorry if what I said was bad. I didn’t mean to make it worse, I just wanted to try and—”

Jared hugged her. He’d always thought of her as a skinny kid, but not compared with the rest of them. “As far as Okranites go, you’re definitely top of our list. You’d better go and reassure the others that none of us are dead.”

The silence only deepened once Pia had left. Finally Spade mumbled, “What were you saying, Jared?”

“Oh, nothing. Never mind.” Realising she was still staring at him, and keen to avoid her gaze, he got up from the stairs. “Well, I’m going to help the flatskins carry – _whoa.”_ His head spinning, he collapsed back onto the step. “No I’m not.”

“Jared! Are you OK?”

“Yeah, fine. Just want to… stay in this place a bit longer…”

“If you’re gonna lie to me, at least lie convincingly.” Her face had drained of every last drop of blood. “Jared, you’re the strongest person in our group. You need to eat more than the rest of us. You haven’t had a full meal since Flotsam, if you could even count those scraps a full meal. And you’ve been pushing yourself really hard. Too hard. You’re gonna collapse if you keep this up.”

“Spade, I don’t exactly have a choice. There’s no food here. And if we try and hunker down in this house for a few days, we’ll be too weak to go _anywhere.”_

“We’ve already reached that point, Jared.”

She was right, but to admit it would be to admit they were going to die. Jared leaned back against the stairs, clutching at his head. “It’s not so far to the waystation. A few hours east of here. We’ve got this.”

“I really hope you’re right,” she whispered. “I really hope you’re right.”

It was ten minutes before the flatskins arrived. Kat and Pia were dragging Rei with a two-man carry, while Lekko laboured under the weight of multiple bags. Jared felt a rush of guilt for not going down to meet them, but when Kat caught his eye he thought he saw understanding in her expression. As they set Rei down against the wall, covering her with an unfastened sleeping bag to keep her warm, Lekko dumped the bags and marched up to the twins. Jared’s heart sank; he liked to think he knew Lekko pretty well by this point, and he had a sense of what was coming.

“We can’t stop here,” she said. “We have to press on.”

“Trying to push on to the waystation tonight will end badly.” Jared sat up a little. Trying to focus on Lekko was like being stabbed in the eyes with sharp grit. “You _know_ that.”

“There’s no food or water!”

“We’ll just have to manage without food.”

“What about water, then?” Lekko’s voice was a little higher than normal. Jared blinked as she slowly came into focus. Under her hat, her face was a mess of bruises and dirt and an uneven suntan. “We can’t manage without water, Jared!”

“Lekko. We haven’t tested the well yet.”

“I’m just saying, the sooner we get to the waystation—”

“Maybe we shouldn’t pin our hopes on the waystation.” Jared had already seen the hope die in Lekko’s eyes and he hated to drive another knife in, but he had to do it. “We’re relying on other people to bail us out. That hasn’t gone so well for us recently.”

“You’re Tech Hunters!” Lekko staggered, hitting the wall, and slid down it to the bottom. Kat went to help her but she held up a hand. “No, Kat. It’s fine.”

“I think that’s proven the point,” Jared said. “None of us are going anywhere today.” Somewhat unsteadily he rose to his feet. “I’ll check the well.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Kat.

Tired and injured and hungry, she didn’t look much better than Lekko. When she licked her dry, chapped lips, Jared saw that her tongue was almost bloodless. He still welcomed her company as she went with him to the yard.

“If there’s water here, d’you think you’d be up for helping me get some?” he checked.

“Yeah.”

The well was nothing like it had been in Jared’s childhood. The stone lip was covered in sand and the pipes had corroded from years of weathering and lack of proper maintenance. He reached for the pump to test the water, but the handle fell off as soon as he touched it.

“Fuck,” he said, then added somewhat unnecessarily, “Pump’s broken.”

“Does this mean we won’t get water?” Kat asked.

“Uhh. Let’s not give up just yet. There might be another way to get some water… assuming there still _is_ water.” He leaned over the edge of the well, peering into its depths. His head span again, and he had to cling to the sides to stop himself overbalancing — that was definitely _not_ the way he wanted to test the water level. “Pass me a stone – no, a bigger one than that. Something that’ll make a splash… yeah, that one you’ve got there, that one will do.”

He gestured for her to stay quiet, then opened his fist and let the stone fall. There was a splashing sound from inside the well, loud enough for them both to hear, and he sat back with a vague feeling of satisfaction. “Good news is, there’s water in there.”

“Bad news?” Kat said.

“We don’t have a bucket. Come on, let’s see if we can find one.”

In spite of his various aches and pains and light-headedness, Jared hadn’t felt particularly thirsty while they’d been walking. Now, however, the lure of the well was all he could think about, and it was with a slight desperation that he scanned their blurry surroundings. Kat, meanwhile, had taken an approach that was a little more focused, and was methodically searching the area around the well.

“Jared?” she said.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I know this place meant something to you both.”

“Thanks. I think it’s bothered me more than her. Which is weird, I guess. I should have had less of a reason to want to come back.”

She nodded sympathetically but did not probe further. Jared almost wished she would; their family and the circumstances of their departure had never really been talking points even in the years they’d spent as Tech Hunters. Ewin had known, and so had Koel, but none of the rest. “How long has it been?” she said finally.

“Six years.”

“So you weren’t that much younger than me when you left.”

It was easy to forget she wasn’t yet eighteen. Jared wondered if it put his own teenage years — reckless and foolhardy and decidedly more immature — into perspective. “Guess not, no. That being said, we didn’t leave as such. Our parents sent us to the barracks.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. If you don’t fit exactly into the warrior mould, the Shek will either break you until you fit it or take your horns. No one wants to be a hornless… Spade, they could have done something with. File off the more impulsive edges and you’ve got the makings of a soldier.”

“But not you?”

“Kat, do _you_ think I’d make a good soldier?”

“You’re good at fighting. You saved me, when the Fogman attacked me.”

Jared shuddered. The Fogman was something he’d far rather forget. “Decent at fighting maybe. Spade’s better – least, she was, before she lost all the grip in her sword hand. Personally? I’d rather come up with plans that involve more thinking and less charging into a situation. The Tech Hunters suited both of us. The military didn’t.” He sighed. “It doesn’t really matter, anyway. Our parents aren’t here, so I can’t yell at them or do… well, whatever I’d been hoping to do. Let’s keep looking for something for the well. I don’t want to have to ask Lekko if she knows how to fix the pump.”

They checked around their immediate surroundings with no luck, then tried the other two buildings. Just as Jared was beginning to lose hope he spotted what they’d been looking for, tucked away next to an outside wall with a pile of rubble inside it.

“Watch your feet,” he said as he upended the bucket. Kat laughed faintly, and he glanced over at her legs. To his shock, her feet were a mess; blisters ballooned under all the dirt and sand, and one of her toenails was missing. “Fucking hell. How are you still walking?”

“What? Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I kind of got used to it,” she said almost nonchalantly. When she took a step forward, she left behind a bloodied footprint. “Pointy rocks will do that, I guess.”

“You should have said something.”

“And what? Materialise a pair of boots out of nowhere? Make everyone else feel guilty for already having them?”

He passed her the bucket. “I think we took Scrap’s rope with us. You wait here and I’ll grab it. Save your feet.”

Scrap’s rope. Poor Rei. It was strange to think that just that morning, Scrap had been alive and growling at anyone who so much as looked at her. Jared had never regarded animals as much more than utilities, and Scrap’s sharp teeth had always made him a little nervous, but Rei had been attached to him, and he’d seen how hard his death had hit her.

No, not just death. Rei had killed Scrap herself after he’d nearly killed Kat. _I should have been the one to do it._

“Any luck?” Spade said as Jared fumbled through the backpacks for the rope.

“Getting there. Maybe.”

Scrap’s rope was slightly bloodstained. Jared wasn’t sure how much of it was Scrap’s blood and how much of it was from where it had sliced into Rei’s hand. He coiled it the best he could and searched for more rope. They didn’t have much else, but there were a few pieces of thickish cord that had been used for securing the sleeping bags. He returned to Kat, who was sitting on the lip of the well and hugging the bucket to her chest. “You much good at tying knots?” he said.

“Yeah. I used to fix nets, back when I lived in the swamps.”

“Great. You make sure the bucket’s secure, and get these ropes tied together. I’ll see if I can rig something up off the pipes.”

While Kat was working, Jared tested the pipes to see if they would stand up to the rigging he had planned. They were slightly wobbly and more corroded than he would have liked, but he guessed they’d probably stand up to a little force. Kat passed him the ropes, which had been strung into a single long one, and he got to work rigging it up on a pipe which spanned the mouth of the well. “What we could really use is a pulley system,” he said, “but shit, if we can get this to work without…”

Kat held the bucket as Jared tied the loose end around his wrist. “You got another stone?” he said.

“What for?”

“This thing’s a bit too light for what we’re using it for. It needs to be heavier if we want it to sink, and not just float around on the water.”

She nodded and found another rock. With the rock inside the bucket, it was a clear burden on her arm and shoulder just to grip the handle, and she had to set it down on the side of the well. “Put more tension in the rope, or you’ll dislocate your shoulder,” she warned. “And probably break your wrist.”

“Oh, shit. Good thinking.” He tightened the rope. “OK. Let it go.”

Kat dropped the bucket. Jared had thought he was ready, but his muscles still screamed in protest. As he gritted his teeth and fed out the rope, Kat peered over the edge of the well to watch its progress. “It’s not there yet,” she called. “Keep it going.”

“That’s it. That’s all I can do.”

They leaned forward, straining to see into the gloom of the well. Every so often, Jared heard a faint splash as if the bucket was skimming the water, but the rope was taut. Kat listened to the sound with despair. “Well, that was…”

“Anticlimactic?” Jared said, pulling the bucket back to the surface.

“I was going to say a fail, but yeah, that too. We need more rope.”

“Yeah. I should probably have realised that sooner. Even with those additional ropes, it’s just not enough to reach the groundwater.” What had started out as a simple-sounding task was fast becoming yet another hill to climb on their journey to survive. Jared longed to find a shady spot and lie down for the rest of the day, but he could feel how dry his lips were, and the skin around his mouth. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Well,” Kat said hesitantly, “I have the bandage thing I was using as a scarf. Maybe we could use that? I know it’s a bit shit, but…”

“But we only need another foot or two.” Jared’s heart began to race. “It might work, Kat.”

Watching Kat tie the scarf in place was nerve-wracking. The smooth fabric slid against the coarse hairs of the rope, and Jared knew that if her knotwork failed they’d be left with no ropes and no bucket. To their satisfaction and relief, the knot became smaller and tighter as Kat tugged on the rope to test it.

“That’s good,” Jared said.

Smiling faintly, Kat helped him lower the bucket once again. This time they were rewarded with a louder splash as it hit the surface of the water. Jared let out the rest of the rope and flashed Kat a quick thumbs-up. “Pretty sure it’s gone under.”

“Only one way to find out.”

“Yeah, about that…” He flushed. “I know Shek aren’t supposed to admit to this, but given our circumstances… uh, I don’t think I’m strong enough to pull up a full bucket with a rock in the bottom. Could you help me?”

“I can try.” She was tiny, over a foot shorter than him and a lot narrower in build. Moreover, her right hand was still stiff with healing injuries. But she positioned herself behind Jared, her fingers clenched around the rope. “Ready when you are.”

The pipe creaked alarmingly as they hauled on the rope, and Jared didn’t need to look back to know Kat was wincing. “Shit,” he said, “if we lose that pipe we’re both getting dragged in.”

“We’d better try not to lose it, then.”

After a few minutes of muted swearing and fear that the pipe would not stand up to the abuse, the pair of them were rewarded with a full bucket of water. They hurried to retrieve it before it could drop and set it on the edge of the well.

“Water,” Kat said.

“We’re not gonna die.” Jared laughed. Somehow the sound of his laugh was so unexpected that he kept laughing. “Water. We got water!”

They hugged a relieved hug next to the well, amid Jared’s giddy, slightly hysterical laughter. It was only after a minute or two that he was able to compose himself and pull away from Kat. She looked like she was trying hard not to smile, and not quite succeeding.

“Sorry,” he said.

“That was good teamwork,” Kat said. “We should tell the others.”

Jared had been hoping to fill the waterskins first, but the rest of the group had other ideas. Rather than waste any time they passed the bucket around, drinking far more sloppily than they’d have done if the water had still been rationed. When it came time for Jared’s share, the water was deliciously cold and tasted like hope. He barely even noticed the dust from the rubble.

When he’d finished drinking, he dunked one of the waterskins and took it to Rei. Rei’s eyes were only half-open, and glassy under the lids. “Here,” he said. “You look like you could use this. Take it.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

He felt far more hydrated than he’d been in days, but this was one battle he was too tired for. “There’s plenty of water to spare. Just drink.”

Rei drank. She drained the skin in just a few seconds, and Jared’s throat suddenly tightened. Rei wasn’t being difficult on purpose; she was just unwell. “You look like you caught the sun,” he said to her.

“Oh… I did?” Her face was ruddy with sunburn, and baby freckles had sprung up alongside the old ones. “Didn’t notice.”

“How about the heat? Do you have a headache?”

“Same as before.”

 _Same as before,_ he thought, desperately wondering what that could mean. “We can throw some water on you if you want.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

Across the yard, Spade and Pia had pulled up more water for washing. Jared rubbed at the dust on his skin. His clothes were filthy, but it might be worth getting a little cleaner all the same…

“Oh, have some decency, Jared,” Spade said a little crossly, seeing him strip to the waist.

“What? The last time any of us washed was back in Flotsam. We might as well do this properly.”

“Pia doesn’t need to see you half naked.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Pia said brightly.

Lekko, who’d chosen that moment to sneak a drink from one of the waterskins, spluttered. Spade just smirked. Pretending he hadn’t heard, Jared dipped his hands into the bucket and splashed his face. “We need to barricade the door tonight. We don’t know what might be nesting nearby.”

“There’s plenty of stuff lying around this place,” Lekko said, coughing water. “We’ll be able to make a decent barrier between us and outside. Tonight we should be safe enough.”

In the end, they all went to bed before nightfall. Jared sat in his sleeping bag and watched Kat and Lekko erect a makeshift tripline across the entrance to the house, with the metal bucket attached to the rope. Anything that blundered into it would in turn dislodge the bucket, which was filled with stones, and would then be scared away by the noise. At least, that was how Kat explained it to the rest of them. Jared, who could think of slightly better uses for those resources — such as leaving the well rigging up for tomorrow morning — frowned sceptically at the sagging rope.

“Are you sure that’s not going to draw attention to our position?” he remarked, as Lekko tested the tripline. The bucket swung wildly, clattering and banging like a small child with a pan and a wooden spoon. “It’s not what I’d call subtle.”

“Nobody will see it in the dark,” Lekko pointed out. “Just don’t go out for a piss in the night.”

“Speaking from experience, Lekko?”

Lekko’s eyes flashed. “Oh, so we’re still bringing up what happened in Bast?”

Realising he’d made a mistake, Jared held up his hands. Lekko continued to glower at him as she piled up the barricade.

“Don’t antagonise the drifter,” Spade whispered. “She’ll shiv you in the night.”

After all the racism they’d experienced in Flotsam and elsewhere, Jared marvelled that Spade was still so eager to voice her prejudices. “It’s not me she’ll shiv if she hears you saying stuff like that.”

The two of them lay down to sleep in the corner, just as they’d done as children. If it hadn’t been for the lack of mattresses and the layer of dust coating the floor, Jared might almost have thought they were living out a memory from the past. “You feeling all right?” he whispered.

“Yeah.”

“You had enough to drink?”

Spade snorted. “Since when did you turn into Ewin?”

“What?”

“All the fussing he did over us. You’re doing it now.” She yawned. “Fussing.”

“I’m not fussing.”

“I don’t mind,” she mumbled. “Just don’t tell the others that.”

They tried to sleep, but the wind was picking up and it was getting colder. In the end, they put the sleeping bags together and huddled up for warmth. Jared noticed Spade’s skin was frozen, and she was shaking slightly. “You’re cold.”

“Not that cold…”

He shifted a little closer to her, trying to trap the body heat between them. Spade’s shivering slowed, and she curled up in her space with her elbow occasionally jabbing Jared in the ribs. “Sorry, Jar…”

“It’s OK.” Now they were settled down, Jared realised just how tired he was. Every little muscle throbbed and ached, and he could feel the overworked beat of his heart. If this was how he felt, he couldn’t begin to imagine what Rei might be going through. He sneaked a glance over. Kat and Lekko were lying on either side of her, snoring softly. He noticed with amusement that Lekko was still holding her hat.

Spade wriggled under the sleeping bags, mumbling to herself. It was almost sweet — not that Jared would have dared say that to her. It was only now they were together again that he realised just how empty things had been without her. He laid his hand on top of hers, smiling at her half-conscious yet derisive snort, and tried not to think about the fresh dangers they’d both be facing in the morning.


	3. Turret

There had always been regrets. Never a stranger to poor life choices, Jared had amassed quite the list in the years he’d been a Tech Hunter. He’d stepped into ruins that had nearly killed him and Spade, he’d lost close friendships in the space of seconds, and the less said about the whole sorry business of Sho-Battai, the better. But of all the things he regretted in his life, Flats Lagoon had finally scraped to the top of the list.

Flats Lagoon had been a throwaway suggestion — almost flippant, in fact. But the three flatskins had latched onto it like a safety rope and, now they were out in the middle of the arid wilderness, there was no real turning back. No turning back, and the carrion-birds were watching them again. Jared gritted his teeth and pretended not to notice them.

It hadn’t been an easy morning. Leaving the vague security of his childhood house had been more difficult than he could have ever anticipated; in spite of its ruined state, he’d felt no sense of closure when they’d turned their backs on it. He’d set off reluctantly, with Rei growing heavier and heavier on his shoulder. He could still feel the aches and pains from yesterday, and her deadweight dragged at his already-wasted muscles.

But he was not leaving her behind.

Jared wasn’t sure what his biggest enemy was, his body or his own mental state. Perhaps it was both. It was impossible to think past the fatigue that had plagued him ever since they’d left Flotsam — the fatigue that he’d tried so hard to ignore but could not escape. Spade had been right; he’d been pushing himself far too hard, and Shek metabolism did not handle starvation well.

 _Don’t collapse,_ he told himself as his legs shook under Rei’s weight, _we’re not so far from the waystation._ If he went down, he knew he would not get up again. Spade might be able to make a decent job of carrying Rei if she had to, but she couldn’t carry him as well, and the flatskins were struggling enough with the bags. _Not so far._

It was becoming increasingly difficult to see where he was going. His eyes were still full of glass shards, and even when he’d sacrificed some of his precious water earlier, it had not been enough to wash those shards away. No matter how many times he blinked, he found himself unable to focus the blurry mess that was his vision. At points it might have been more comfortable to close his eyes, but he dared not do so for fear of stumbling and dropping Rei. As the day wore on, the surrounding fuzziness began to seep into his brain as well, and it was not until much later that he realised he had been wrong about the waystation only being a couple of hours away.

“Are you sure we’re not lost, you two?” Lekko said.

Her voice was scratchy, like fingernails raking stone. Jared winced. “What?”

“It’s starting to get dark.”

“It is?” The blurriness had worsened over the course of the day. The sun might have set hours ago for all he could tell. “Shit.”

“We’re not lost,” Spade said stubbornly. “The Sentinels are over there, and they’ve been over there the whole time we’ve been walking. We’re going in the right direction.”

Lekko did not sound convinced. “Spade, it’s not just about direction. Just because we’re going the right way, it doesn’t mean we’re on a straight path to the waystation. We could be _way_ off course. And we’ve been walking for hours, there’s no waystation—”

“Do you think I haven’t fucking noticed that?”

“Hey, hey.” Jared held up a hand, feeling his arm shake. “Let’s not argue.”

“Does any of this look familiar to you, Jared?” Lekko said.

Jared could feel the ground had evened out under his feet, but he could tell little about the surrounding area. “I don’t know. Spade?”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve been this way in the past,” Spade ventured. “And it looks like there’s a bit of a track here. We’ll just have to follow it the best we can, at least until the sun’s completely set. After that… well, we have the light of the Sentinels to guide us.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” said Lekko. “It looks like the cloud’s moving in to the north-east.”

“Are you just gonna stand there and be negative, drifter, or are you gonna come up with a solution?”

“Guys…” Jared wondered why he even cared that they were fighting. It was proving difficult to care about much; the air was rapidly cooling, the darkness had closed in long ago for him, and every sluggish step sent his muscles screaming in protest. It didn’t feel like he was walking so much as wading through waist-deep water, and he was sure the length of his stride did not match the progress he was making. _Two steps forward, three steps back._

“Jared’s right,” Pia put in. “We shouldn’t argue. Look, we gotta be nearly there. And if we’re not, we can set up camp.”

“Setting up camp is a bad idea,” Spade said, but Jared was still tempted by the thought. At this point, he’d gladly risk death for a little rest. “There are bonedogs and spiders out here.”

“Wait,” Pia squeaked. _“Spiders?”_

“Skin spiders,” Jared said. “They aren’t as venomous as blood spiders, but they pack a nasty bite.” Hearing her breathing quicken, he hastily added, “Hey Pia, it’s OK. We’ll be fine. Think Okran thoughts, yeah? We’ll find that waystation.”

“I don’t want to be eaten.”

“We won’t be eaten,” Jared said, but he suspected he might be lying. Of all the ways to die, getting taken out by a few weak animals wasn’t how he’d imagined things would go. “We got a pretty good track record of surviving.”

“We really don’t,” Lekko said tightly. “Or have you forgotten our group used to be twice this size?”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

A bonedog howled. With the sound echoing around the hills, Jared couldn’t tell if it was nearby or far away. More worryingly, he was sure he could hear the chittering hiss of spiders nearby, but none of the others had mentioned it.

“I wish we had a light,” said Kat.

“A light’s like a beacon on a dark night,” Lekko remarked. “Let’s just hope nothing smells us.”

“I mean, we’re _definitely_ a bright light in the smell department.”

That waist-deep water was growing deeper still, creeping up to Jared’s chest. His lungs seemed to shrink a little each time he breathed out. The pain in his eyes was getting unbearable, and his cheeks were already damp with tears. He looked back instinctively at the sound of more bonedog howls, the movement painfully jerking the tendons in his neck, but all he could see was darkness. Had it not been for Pia’s fearful whimpering from right next to him, he could have sworn that he and Rei were travelling alone through the night.

“We should probably hold hands,” Kat said. “So we don’t lose each other.” Jared, who wasn’t at all sure he had the strength to keep Rei on his shoulder with just one hand, was about to protest, but she quickly added, “Not you, Jared. Spade, hold onto his shirt or something.”

A hand grabbed the base of Jared’s shirt, tugging it a little more than was necessary. He could tell from the awkward grip that it was Spade’s hand. “You OK, Jar?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he lied. “Are you?”

“I think so. Bit wobbly, maybe.” Then, with a faint trace of an old humour he hadn’t heard in over a year, she added, “You want to take bets on who’s going to pass out first?”

 _“Hah,_ we both know it’s going to be you.”

“Oh yeah, keep telling yourself that, Mr Tough Guy.” The darkness seemed to shift, and Jared knew that if she’d been smiling before, that smile had now faded. “If things get bad for us, will you be able to draw your sword with Rei on your shoulder?”

“Uh, I doubt it.” His sabre wasn’t that heavy as weapons went, but it was still large and unwieldy. “Do you think you could use Rei’s sword?”

“What? Oh, not a chance. But I’ve got the sidearm, I’ll use that.”

He was marching in step to his heartbeat now, a heartbeat that felt more strained than it had been even in the slave camp. The water was almost up to his neck now. He wondered how much longer it would be before it drowned him. “Spade?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I love you, right?”

He’d half-hoped she’d laugh scornfully at that; she had an image to maintain, after all. But her response was shaky and whisper-quiet and not at all snarky. “I love you too, Jar.”

“Thanks for having my back.”

There was a little pause, and he knew she was thinking of Flotsam. “That’s what we do for each other, right? What we’ll _always_ do for each other.”

He wasn’t sure he’d heard a confirmation of that kind since before they’d been arrested in Sho-Battai, and all the doubts and uncertainties that he’d been harbouring suddenly melted away. “Spade, I’m—”

“Lights,” Pia said suddenly.

“What?”

“Lights! I can see lights!”

Jared looked, but saw nothing at all. “Really?”

“She’s right,” Spade said. “Oh, thank fuck. We’re not gonna die.”

The relief rippled around the group as the others spotted the lights too. Jared, who was very keenly feeling like a blind man among the sighted, did not speak. He wondered why he was even still walking in front.

“Jared, you’re off course.” Spade lifted her hand from his shirt long enough to give him a push on the shoulder. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

The little push almost sent him sprawling. His muscles had been close to giving up for hours. _Mind over matter_ could only carry him so far. “Yeah… fine…”

“OK. Guys. We need to agree not to talk about World’s End.” Spade’s voice was shaking. “Doesn’t matter who’s there, we don’t talk about it. It was still standing when we left. We don’t need the questions, and to be honest, we don’t want to run the risk that people find out the truth. Everyone in agreement?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lekko said.

Jared could feel the others walking with more confidence now, and heard the spread of their footsteps as they let go of each other’s hands. They had to be close to the source of the lights. Jared risked a grab for Spade’s hand before she could release her grip on him.

“Jar, do you need my help to walk?”

“I can’t see.”

“That’s OK, we’ll be able to see better in a minute.”

“No, Spade. I really can’t see. I haven’t been able to see properly all afternoon.”

“What?” Spade sounded stunned. “When were you going to tell us?”

“Just… can you hold my hand, please? I don’t want to fall with Rei on my shoulder.”

She held his hand, her fingers very tight around his. “You’re a fucking idiot, Jared.”

“Sorry, Spade. I didn’t want to—”

His toe caught against a loose stone. Under normal circumstances, he might have stumbled. But with his vision gone and the water up to his chin, he wasn’t able to correct his balance in time. He tripped and fell, jerking his shoulder and the limp burden draped over it, smashing face-first into the dirt. Spade yelped as she was dragged down with him. For a few stunned seconds the pair of them lay in the dust, clinging to the last of the desert heat from earlier.

“Rei.” The glass was in Jared’s lungs now, not just his eyes. He coughed, tried to lift his head, and realised he didn’t have the strength. “Someone… someone check on her.”

“I’ll do it,” Kat said. There was a little thumping noise as she hit the ground. “Oh shit, I hadn’t realised things hurt that much until I stopped…”

“Jared?” Spade tugged her hand out of his and tried to roll him onto his side. “Jared?”

“I’m fine,” Jared choked, as the dust burned away at his chest like a cloud of poison. “Just give me a minute.”

“Jared, we don’t _have_ a minute. We have to get up. There are things out here. I – I think they’re close by. The waystation’s not far, we have to get to it, get _up,_ you lazy bastard.” She tugged at his arm, but her grip was weak. She let out a small, almost noiseless sob. _“Move.”_

Rei was groaning nearby. Jared could tell just from the sound of her voice that she wouldn’t be getting up either. He guessed that the others were probably in a similar state. “Spade, leave me here. Go and get help.”

“I’m not leaving kin.”

“How far is the waystation? Will they be able to hear you if you shout?”

“I – Jared, are you sure? If there are things out here that want to kill us—”

“Then we’ll die out here anyway.”

“You’re right.” She coughed and drew in a deep breath. “Hey! We’re Tech Hunters! Please help us, we’re Tech Hunters!”

For a second there was silence, but then Kat’s voice joined in too, and so did Pia’s. The darkness chittered and hissed, and Jared reflexively grabbed for where he thought Spade was. “What can you see, Spade?”

“I… I think they’ve heard us… Hey! It’s Spade! I’m here with Jared… Ewin used to be our captain… help us!”

An answering shout, a shout that was oddly familiar. _Koel,_ Jared thought, and wondered if they really were about to die out here. As the ground thudded with running footsteps, he tightened his grip on Spade’s arm as if she was his last link to life. “Make sure they get Rei inside first,” he whispered to her. “And Pia.”

He was sinking now — Spade’s response sounded like it was below the water — but the sinking was oddly peaceful. Even though it was too dark for the darkness to close in, Jared still felt a soothing little tug on his muscles. “Promise me, Spade.”

The water dragged him into its depths.

* * *

Kat clung to the jitte in her hand, staring into the darkness. The sounds seemed to have surrounded them now, and she knew spiders well enough to know what was lurking just out of sight. She wondered if she’d even have the strength to swing the jitte if anything came close to her or Rei.

“Rei, are you able to crawl?” she whispered.

Rei did not respond. She was definitely still conscious, because Kat could hear her faint attempts at movement, but she was as weak as the rest of them, if not weaker. Kat’s own muscles felt too rigid, like something had locked them into position, and the rapid beating of her heart brought the faint taste of vomit to her dry mouth. The hilt of her jitte felt vaguely damp under her fingers.

“Oi! You there!”

Kat’s instincts battled for a brief second. A single yellow eye gleamed in the darkness and she tried to strike out at it, but her muscles were still locked. The faint light from the spotlight on the waystation wall caught a glimmer of silver hair as the figure moved, and a small pair of hands tugged on hers.

“Are you hurt?” said the Scorchlander. “Can you stand?”

Kat realised he was trying to pull her to her feet. “Yeah… I…”

“Good,” he said, “that’s one less to worry about, then.”

Something let out a hiss nearby. As the man dragged Kat backwards, the hiss became a screech and a long-legged creature retreated, as if the shadows had snatched it back. The man glanced up at the waystation wall and Kat did the same; there was a slender Hiver-like figure up there, wielding the unmistakable shape of a very large sniper’s crossbow.

“Quick,” the Scorchlander said, “run to the gate.”

“But Rei – Lekko – the twins—” There were more spiders out there, she’d heard them. “I can’t leave—”

“Beanhop’s got us covered. Get out of the way or he won’t be able to shoot the spiders. Yari’s coming, he’ll protect them, now _run.”_

Kat stumbled to the gate. After the earlier darkness, the electric spotlight was dazzling. People were running to the others’ assistance; someone had already dragged Pia up from the ground and shoved her towards the wall. Kat grabbed Pia’s hand, tugging her up the steps to the gate.

“Get inside,” she told her, spotting the lights of the waystation bar. “I’ll meet you there. Go!”

To her relief, Pia did as she was told. Kat peered around the side of the gate to see what had become of the rest of her friends. The Scorchlander’s arrival had shocked her muscles into movement, and the urge to run at the spiders nearly got the better of her. She noticed with horror that there were more of the spiders than she’d thought, and not nearly so many of their rescuers. A man hurried past with a limp figure on his shoulder, not even noticing her. _Rei._ Relief flared for only a second — Rei might be safe, but the others certainly weren’t.

“Move the spotlight!” she yelled at the Hiver on the wall.

“What?”

“They need to be able to see…” Kat was already charging up the ramp to the wall, heedless of the pain in her feet. But the spotlight didn’t move as easily as she’d thought it might; perhaps the hinges were corroded. She swore to herself, putting every last ounce of strength into swinging it around — and then, with a loud creak that sounded like it was about to break, the spotlight moved. Light, brilliant and life-saving, spilled onto the ground and chased back the shadows.

“That’s better!” The Hiver — Beanhop, maybe, the names had flown past Kat — was already reloading, the crossbow lifted to his shoulder as he aimed over the wall.

But the light could only do so much. Yet more spiders were emerging out of the darkness, large ugly things with yellowish skin and piercing fangs. Kat cast around desperately — Lekko and the twins were still where she’d left them, but the Scorchlander had not moved. He’d been joined by a polearm user in a rattan hat, and the two of them were working together to drive back the spiders. For a second Kat was almost distracted by the elegant, dance-like motions of the polearm… then she noticed a spider making straight for the twins, and her blood ran cold.

“On your right!” she yelled at the polearm user.

Spade saw the spider approach a split second after Kat did, because she shrieked and scrabbled desperately for her sidearm. The polearm user shouted something to her — presumably an instruction to get down — and swung his weapon above her head. Spade ducked, throwing herself over Jared. The man stepped forward, the polearm spinning. The Scorchlander had his katana out, guarding his companion’s back.

“Come on, Ewin, come on…” Beanhop muttered.

“I can use the turret!” Kat burst out. “I know how to shoot spiders.”

“No, that’s a bad—” Beanhop stopped, as if hearing the Swamp in her voice. “Go for it. Just be careful not to hit any of us.”

Kat ran to the turret. It was a different design from the mounted crossbow on her grandmother’s deck, but they all operated in much the same way. There was plenty of ammunition and it swung with far greater ease than the spotlight had done. But as she screwed up her eyes and tried to take aim she realised the others were in the way, and unlike Beanhop she could do little to reposition.

“We need to get the gate closed!” Beanhop yelled over the side of the wall.

Spade screamed again. They were surrounded. The polearm was doing a good job of creating a protective circle while the Scorchlander tried to drag Lekko to her feet, but they were still vulnerable in multiple directions. Not stopping to fully think it through, Kat grabbed the turret and started shooting. A few spiders skittered in pain as they were peppered with bolts, though Kat wasn’t entirely sure if that was her doing or Beanhop’s. _Shit it’s not enough I’m going to end up hitting someone if I keep it up why isn’t anyone trying to get them out of there—_

“Ewin!” one of their rescuers shouted.

A tall, dark-skinned Greenlander was charging out of the gate towards the group. Kat thought he might have been the one who’d carried Rei earlier. He shouted something at the other two then, with one smooth movement, threw Jared over his shoulder and grabbed Spade by the arm. Seeing this, the Scorchlander started pulling Lekko towards the gate. Kat’s next shots were made with more confidence, the squeeze of the trigger feeling increasingly natural against her finger. Now the three rescuers were most of the way towards the gate, there was less risk of hitting one of them…

“Get the gate closed!” Beanhop yelled again.

But the gate wasn’t closing fast enough to keep the spiders at bay, nor were Kat and Beanhop’s combined efforts enough to counter the sheer volume of the things. The man in the rattan hat thrust his polearm through the gateway, yanking it back just in time for the gate to close. The last hiss of a squished bug cut through the night, signalling an end to the fight.

Over. It was over. Kat didn’t realise the adrenaline had deserted her until her legs gave way and she bashed her chin against the turret. She wanted to be sick but her stomach was empty. As she heaved, a Hiver hand touched her shoulder. “Good work. Come on, we’d better go to your friends.”

“The spiders…” Kat said numbly. She wasn’t at all sure she could get up again.

“You guys must have disturbed a nest or something.” The man with the polearm had appeared on the rampart beside her and Beanhop. He pulled Kat up, allowing her to lean against him. She could feel the smooth leather of his dustcoat against her bare arm. “Let’s go to the bar and you can have a sit down.”

Kat barely registered anything about the bar, just that it was light and safe and warmer than outside. The man set her down with her back against the wall, next to a skinny, hyperventilating figure. “Spade?” she mumbled.

“Fucking spiders. Fucking spiders.” Spade took in a little gasping breath. The dark-skinned Greenlander who’d rescued her was kneeling on the other side of her, and she made a grab for his sleeve. “Ewin, you gotta help Jared, _please,_ you gotta help him, you gotta—”

“I’m assessing his condition now, Spade.”

For a split second, the flames roared. Kat stared at Ewin wide-eyed, trying to resist the sudden urge to shove him away from them. Ewin frowned for a second, but then his eyes slid to the flame-shaped brand on her cheek. His expression suddenly changed.

“I’ve never been a paladin,” he said softly. “I’m sorry for what my people have done.”

“Will Jared be OK?” Spade demanded, and Kat saw with a jolt that Ewin had been kneeling at Jared’s side. Judging by the recovery position he’d been rolled into, he was unconscious, and he was even paler than Spade. Kat reached for Spade’s injured hand, intending just to touch it, but Spade seized onto it with a surprising amount of strength given her missing fingers. Kat winced as her own fingers were crushed. “Is it just he hasn’t eaten, or—”

“That and exhaustion, most likely scenario. Pulse is normal.” Ewin let go of Jared’s wrist. “Your rations ran out?”

“Yeah, they – they didn’t stretch as far as we thought they would – it’s been a while since we had a proper meal—”

“You two are veterans at this point. You really should have known better. What were you thinking anyway, making a journey like that in the state you were in? A year of slavery isn’t something you just bounce back from. You’re lucky we were here.” Ewin’s voice suddenly softened. “He seems to be coming to now, Spade. I’ll get some water. Make sure he doesn’t move about too much, because knowing your brother, he’ll try.”

As Ewin left, Spade let out a shaky breath and rested her head against the wall. Kat wanted to go to Rei and see how she was doing, but it wasn’t just Spade’s death grip holding her in place; her muscles had locked up again, and this time nothing was going to persuade them to untense. Her stomach still churned a little, but it seemed to have mostly settled down. “We’re safe,” she told Spade.

“I know, I just… I haven’t been that close to a spider since one attacked me in the ruin…”

Ewin came back with a bowl of water and a cloth and handed it to Spade.

“I thought we were all going to die when we were so close to being safe and…”

“Spade,” Ewin said gently, “you said Jared couldn’t see, right? Can you do me a favour and help me clean his eyes out? Could be something in them.”

“What?” Spade stared down at the bowl of water as if she hadn’t even realised what she’d been given. She slowly let go of Kat’s hand. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Jared, are you awake?” Ewin said as Jared groaned.

Jared cracked a smile. “Ewin. My second favourite Okranite.”

“Good to know you haven’t changed. Do you think you can sit up?”

His smile faded slightly. “Might need some help.”

Kat watched as Ewin and Spade lifted Jared into a sitting position. Now they were all in the light, she could see he hadn’t been exaggerating; his gaze showed little sign of recognition even as Ewin peered into his face. “Hmm… those eyes do look sore, but I can’t see anything in them.” He thumbed back an eyelid. The white of Jared’s eye was horribly bloodshot. “How do they feel?”

“Got dust in them earlier. It went blurry, and… I can sort of see light and a bit of colour, but it feels like glass.” Jared blinked. “Where _are_ we?”

“We’re in the waystation,” Kat informed him.

“Huh, so we didn’t get eaten. Also, I guess I lost the bet.”

“What b— Jared!” Spade’s eyes were very wide. “You’re a fucking idiot. A fucking blind idiot who looks like shit.”

“Hah, _now_ look who’s fussing.”

“Fussing? Over you? Like you even deserve to be fussed over.”

“Spade, get the bowl ready.” Ewin gently tilted Jared’s head back. “Expect this to sting a little.”

Kat, sitting uselessly next to Spade, wished there were something more she could do. She settled for looking around to make sure her other friends were unharmed. Rei was lying under a blanket, Pia was tucking into a bowl of rice someone had evidently just given her, and Lekko was curled up and shaking in the corner. Aside from Ewin, there were only three Tech Hunters in the bar. The Hive prince, Beanhop, was perched on the table with his crossbow, while the Scorchlander and the man with the polearm were sitting apart from the rest of the group. “Who are these people?” she whispered to Spade.

“Our old squad,” Spade said. “We met up with them back in World’s End, but we didn’t have a lot of time to catch up. We weren’t expecting to see them here… I honestly wondered if…” She trailed off, staring at Ewin. “Why _are_ you here? You left World’s End a month ago.”

“Things didn’t go according to plan,” Ewin explained. “A certain member of our group paid a pretty hefty price for a gutter egg.”

The bowl tipped suddenly, sloshing water onto the floor. Ewin winced. “Jared, keep your head still.”

“Where’s Mik?” Jared demanded. “Is she OK?”

“Mik’s alive, don’t panic.” Ewin gestured for Spade to set the bowl down. “How are your eyes?”

“Still stuff in them.”

“I don’t think so.” Ewin was looking a little ruffled. “You haven’t been wearing dark goggles, have you? Or even a hat with a brim?”

Jared grinned sheepishly. “They don’t suit me.”

“Well, there we have it. It’s most likely desert blindness.”

“Desert blindness?” Kat said, blinking at the casual way Ewin said it. “That’s bad, right?”

“Sunlight can burn the eyes, just like it can burn skin.” Ewin was winding a bandage around Jared’s eyes. “It’s nasty, but it’s not as severe as it sounds. The damage won’t be permanent… _if_ his eyes get some rest.”

Jared lifted a weak hand, touching the bandage. “Hey, Spade. Maybe we should have fixed up those goggles we got from World’s End.”

 _“Jared,”_ Spade hissed.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Spade,” Ewin said, and Spade jumped. “How are your eyes?”

“Shit…” Spade touched her face. “They’re a bit sore. I didn’t really notice…”

“Stay inside tomorrow, as much as you can.” He gave her eyes a cursory check, then put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry, I’d be impressed if you managed to go as blind as your brother. Let me know if your symptoms worsen.” His grip tightened for a second. “How are you holding up?”

“I—”

“We’ll get you fed, we’ll get you watered.” Ewin’s voice was slow and calm. Had it not been for the Okranite accent, Kat would almost have felt reassured. “You’ll have plenty of time to rest. It’s all right, you’re safe now. You and your brother are safe.”

Spade’s face crumpled. She wrapped her arms around Ewin and clung to him, trembling and half-sobbing. Ewin hugged her back. It was only when her breathing had calmed that he gently let go of her and went over to where Rei was lying. Kat hesitated, wondering if she should tell him to leave her be, then relented; Rei was asleep from the looks of things and besides, Ewin seemed to know what he was doing.

“Thanks, Kat,” Spade whispered.

“What for?”

“For helping. You were on the turret, right? You protected us.”

“Oh… well, you tried to protect Rei, right? To make sure they got her inside.”

“Yeah, you can thank Jared for that.” Spade smiled faintly. “Not really the play-the-hero type, myself.”

“Good thing none of us actually needed to play the hero.” Jared was slumped half against the wall, half against his sister’s shoulder. Spade dipped the cloth into the bowl and started cleaning the worst of the dust and grime off his cheeks. “Our old squad did all that for us.”

“Thank fuck,” Spade said.

“Thank fuck,” he agreed.

After an hour or so had passed and they’d all had a chance to eat — Kat was sure she’d downed at least three meals in the space of one — they were taken up to the roof to rest. For Kat the hard, sandy flophouse mattresses were a luxury, but from Lekko’s reaction they might have been heaven. Kat watched with amusement as Lekko rolled herself in the blankets, hugging the thin pillow with a little noise of pure happiness.

“Well,” Spade said, “looks like we’re never getting the drifter out of that bed.”

“She’s probably never slept in one before,” Jared pointed out.

The rest of them settled down to sleep, Kat taking the bed between Rei and Lekko. There was silence almost as soon as they’d made themselves comfortable, and Kat suspected the others had immediately passed out. As she too closed her eyes and allowed her various aches and pains a chance to rest, whispered voices sounded nearby.

“What the hell happened to them?” a woman was saying. “Why did they leave World’s End in the first place?”

“I don’t know.” That was Ewin’s voice, Kat was sure of it. “The twins are reckless, but not _that_ reckless. I didn’t think it prudent to press them, given the state they were in.”

“They’ll be all right, won’t they?”

“I think so. I must say, I’m concerned at how underweight everyone is. The twins especially… they look as hungry as they did when I saw them in World’s End. Carrying Jared was like carrying a child.” Ewin’s voice suddenly tightened. “As if we didn’t have enough people to worry about.”

“I’m sorry. If I could have helped…”

“Don’t worry about that now, Mik. And don’t fret about either of the twins. Leave that to me. You need to focus on healing. That recovery process will be a long one.”

A Hiver voice joined in with the conversation. “Does anyone else feel like they’re hiding something? Like, I spoke to Spade just before we all went upstairs, and she seemed pretty evasive.”

“Like I said, don’t press them. We’ll have a proper conversation when they have less on their minds.” Ewin paused. “Is that—”

Kat could hear it too, blazing fire burning through the sunshade above her head, the flames leaping high around her. Iza screamed, her face melting like candle wax. Kat tried to scream too but the sounds refused to come. Smoke forced its way into her nostrils, smoke that stank of the forge and cooking flesh and sweat and dust and old iron…

Was she breathing, or was she dying? Her feet were tingling, her hand was tingling, her face was melted and disfigured and burning in the fire. Iron gauntlets crept around her throat, crushing her windpipe, covering her mouth to keep the screams in, choking her out of her own body. The lights on the roof distorted like the reflection off a teardrop, flaring and bulging. She wanted to run, but she was shackled with heavy weights and the fire had become a flood, fogging her mind, doing its utmost to drown her…

“It’s OK, I got this. Kat. Kat!” A familiar hand touched Kat on the shoulder. “Kat, it’s OK, you’re safe.”

She wanted to grab for that safety rope, but her limbs were too heavy, dragging her unde the water before she had a chance. The water had stolen what little air the fire had not consumed, and every breath seared her lungs.

“Take it slowly,” Lekko said. “Slow breaths. You’re doing well.”

The teardrop view of the world gradually receded, but Kat’s heart still thumped and thudded like a garru charging over rocky ground. She realised she was slumped against Lekko. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, feeling like she was breathing through a narrow tube. “I’m sorry, I’m really—”

“Hey, it’s OK.” Lekko gently touched Kat’s other shoulder. “Today’s been pretty traumatic. A panic attack’s a normal reaction.”

 _Just a panic attack,_ Kat tried to tell herself. Had it been the terror of earlier, or had it been the discussion of World’s End that had set it off? She clung to the front of Lekko’s shirt, the rough fabric just enough to ground her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I wasn’t really sleeping. Kind of hard to, after everything that happened earlier.” She chuckled very faintly, as if trying to snatch some humour from their situation. “Even if the beds are comfortable.”

“You’re OK, right?”

“I will be. We all made it out of there… I understand we have you to thank for that, at least in part.” Lekko squeezed Kat’s shoulders. “You _will_ wake me if you need me, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” Kat said vaguely, rubbing at her cheek. She was very aware the Tech Hunters were pretending not to notice what was going on. “Thanks, Lekko.”

In the dim light, she thought she saw Lekko smile. “Any time. Try and get some sleep.”

But as much as Kat had tried to ignore the mark burned into her face, the earlier flames had set it ablaze. She lay back against the pillow, staring at the dark, flapping canvas above her head, and wondered how long it would be before she felt like a person again.


	4. Medicine

It had been a long sleep, and one she was not ready to wake up from. In spite of the canvas sunshade above her bed, Kat awoke to find herself sweltering. Sweltering, and still exhausted. The throbbing soreness was almost unbearable now, and pushing the blanket off her shoulders a gargantuan task. In the end she left it there and sweated in silence, listening to the screams of the carrion-birds somewhere in the distant sky.

Carrion-birds aside, it was quiet up on the roof. Kat lifted her head a little, squinting in the bright daylight. She could see most of her group was still asleep, as were the Tech Hunters who’d rescued them. Rei lay on the next bed over, murmuring fitfully. Every so often she would twitch and flinch away as if something — or some _body_ — had touched her. Using all the energy she could muster, Kat pushed back the blanket and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

She only vaguely remembered the medical attention she’d received the night before. Someone, maybe Ewin, had put a new bandage on her arm and cleaned out the deep bite-marks on her leg; fresh cotton bindings wrapped her feet from ankle to toe. More of her seemed to be bandaged than not. She tried to stand up, but the agony was like a wave and she had to grip the support of the sunshade. _Did I really walk all that way in this state?_

She elected to sit back down rather than hobble, rubbing ineffectually at the bandages. At least she was next to Rei, close enough that she could lean forward and touch her. As she reached for Rei’s curled-up hand, trying to soothe her out of whatever memory-nightmare she was having, Rei opened her eyes and stared at her.

“Morning,” Kat said, not at all sure it was still morning.

“Huh? Oh… morning.” Rei blinked. “Where are we?”

“Waystation. The twins got us there. We’re safe.”

“The twins… shit!” Rei’s voice burst with panic. It was the first time since Admag that she’d spoken above a whisper. “Jared was carrying me. And there were spiders. Where is he? Is he OK?”

“He’s fine.” Kat had to bite her tongue to keep herself from adding _I think._ She glanced across the roof but was unable to make out the twins’ sleeping forms. “He must be downstairs. The spiders didn’t hurt him.”

“Good.” Rei’s breath shook. “I didn’t want it to be like Trepp and the beetle lady.”

“The what?”

“Trepp died coz I asked her to carry the beetle lady. If something had happened to Jared, it’d have been my fault. He shouldn’t have been carrying me.”

“Hey, it’s fine. None of us were about to leave you to die in the middle of the Stenn.” Kat closed her fingers around Rei’s. “Besides, you know he wanted to. I don’t think the way he feels about you has changed.”

“It has. I know pity when I see it.”

“Well…” Kat floundered a little. “However he feels, he knows you’re just as important as anyone else in the group. And he’s right.”

Rei didn’t reply. Kat sighed a little and sat with her as she fell asleep again. It was difficult to tell that she was sleeping and not dozing; her face remained creased even in slumber, her muscles still occasionally twitching. It was only when she let out a tiny snore that Kat let go of her hand and sat back on the bed. _Maybe all she needs is rest._ But Kat knew the truth was more complicated than that.

Not wanting to sit alone with just her thoughts for company, Kat made another attempt at standing. This time, she was braced for the inevitable wave of pain that shot through the soles of her feet. She regarded the stairs doubtfully for a second or two, then — with the slow and careful movements of an old woman unsteady on her feet — began the unpleasant journey to the downstairs bar.

To Kat’s relief the twins were up and about, sitting at a table in the corner of the room. Spade smiled a faint greeting at her arrival and gave Jared a poke in the ribs. “We got company.”

“You could have just _said_ that,” Jared grumbled, rubbing his side.

“I did.”

Kat hobbled to a stool and sat down without waiting for an invitation. “Are you guys all right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Spade said, but her eyes were rimmed red and Kat could see dark bags under them. “Guess we got here, didn’t we? We’re back with our old squad. And Ewin told the barkeep to start a tab, so we can eat whatever we want. You hungry?”

“I think we’ve all got a few meals to catch up on,” Kat said, but felt a stab of guilt at the thought of taking advantage of Ewin’s generosity. “Are you sure your squad is OK with paying for all of us… I mean, you and Jared are the only two Tech Hunters…”

“It’ll be fine, they want to help. Stop stressing about it.” Spade brushed Jared’s arm for a second, as if signalling that she was leaving, and crossed the room to the bar. She’d taken off her boots, and Kat could hear her cursing as she trod on the splintery wooden floorboards. Her feet were unbandaged, but Kat could tell from the way she was walking that she had blisters too.

“You sound tired, swamp-lander,” Jared observed.

“So do you. Should you even be up?”

“Probably not,” he admitted. “I’m sure Ewin will drag me back upstairs and tie me to the bed if he sees me down here.”

Kat chuckled faintly. “How are you feeling?”

He grimaced. “Like I’ve been trampled by a herd of garru. But at least everyone’s alive.”

Kat snuck a glance at Spade, who was arguing something with the Shek barkeep. “Think you gave her a bit of a scare last night, you know.”

“Who?”

“Your sister! She was panicking. She was really worried about you.”

“Worried? Pissed off, more like.”

His tone was jokey, but Kat could tell it was hiding something else. “I had a question,” she said, “but it might be a bit of a sensitive subject.”

“What did you want to ask?”

“The stone camp. You two were separated, weren’t you?” Jared stayed silent, and she bit her lip. “Sorry.”

“We used to be closer,” Jared said.

“You still care about each other, though.”

“Maybe,” Jared said. “Maybe we’re just really shit at showing it.” He rested his elbows on the table, rubbing at his arms. “Just like the rest of us.”

“We’ll get along better now we don’t have to worry so much about surviving. I think. I hope.”

“Yeah.” Jared hunched his shoulders. With his eyes bandaged and his sister not at his side, he looked young and a little lost. “We just need to persuade the others to take us to Flats Lagoon.”

“That’s gonna be a while,” Spade said, returning to the table with a sloshing jug of water. She was bristling; Kat guessed the barkeep had done something to rub her up the wrong way. “You know what happened to Mik, right?”

“What happened to Mik?” Jared said.

Spade put the jug down on the table. “She’s the reason they never went back to World’s End. She lost an arm.”

Jared’s jaw dropped. “Wait, _what?”_

Spade shrugged a little. “Gutter ripped it off.”

“Holy shit.” Jared sat back in his seat, rubbing at his forehead. “Poor woman.”

“Hey.” Spade’s voice softened. “If it’s any consolation, she was drunk enough that she didn’t feel it.”

“Guess we aren’t the only ones who’ve taken a decade off Ewin’s life, huh?”

The barkeep came over with a tray of food, setting it between them with a little more force than was necessary. He glared at Spade, who glared back. “If you weren’t with Ewin…” he said a little menacingly. Then, leaving the threat hanging, he snatched up a cloth and started mopping up a puddle of spilled grog on the floor nearby.

“What happened?” Kat whispered.

“He made a comment about my horns,” Spade said, still glowering at the barkeep. “So I just pointed out I’m less of a coward than some twat holed up in a waystation with guards to protect him.”

“OK,” Kat said quickly; Spade’s voice was loud enough that the barkeep could almost certainly hear her. “Let’s have breakfast.”

Flophouse food wasn’t usually of the highest quality, but Kat found herself wolfing it down. As they were all eating, she noticed Spade sneaking more food onto Jared’s plate, and smiled. Even if Spade _was_ bad at showing it, she certainly cared.

As they were finishing up their respective meals, there came the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Kat looked up just as two young men — a Greenlander and a Scorchlander — came into the bar. The Greenlander hung back slightly, as if waiting for invitation, but the Scorchlander sat down anyway. She hadn’t realised the night before, but he was probably the same age as her. A tricorn sat a jaunty angle on his head, and his hair flopped over the side of his face in a rumpled manner. _That explains the single eye I saw._

“Hey, flatskin.” Spade beckoned to the Greenlander. “You’re allowed to sit down, you know.”

“Thank you.” He smiled and sat next to the Scorchlander. He’d left his rattan hat and his polearm upstairs, and Kat saw his eyes narrow at his companion’s katana. “Do you really need that in here?”

“You never know when there’s going to be a bar fight.”

Kat vaguely recognised the accents but struggled to place them. Some of the vowels sounded long to her ears, similar to the way she spoke, but the intonation was more songlike. She frowned, trying to remember the geography south of the Swamp.

“How are you feeling this morning?” the Greenlander asked them.

“Less eaten than we were expecting,” Jared said with a grin. “Thanks for saving us. I know you didn’t have to.”

The Scorchlander leaned across the table for the water jug. Spade, who’d been using the jug to soften her last slice of bread, scowled and shoved it across the table towards him. “You could have just _asked,”_ she snapped.

“Don’t worry,” the Greenlander said easily. “Thalen doesn’t have table manners.”

Thalen shrugged. “No, but I _do_ have water, and you don’t.”

Spade’s eyes narrowed at the water jug. But the comment on table manners clearly hadn’t escaped her, because she surreptitiously returned her soggy bread to her plate. “Back in World’s End, you two said you hadn’t joined the squad. That you were mercenaries.”

“I prefer the term freelancer,” the Greenlander said.

“Mercenaries, freelancers, whatever. I hate working with them. Only care about the money and not the team.”

_“We_ used to freelance,” Jared pointed out.

“That’s different! We were Tech Hunters, and we only ever freelanced for Tech Hunters… not whoever was the highest bidder…”

The Greenlander raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry our presence offends you so much.”

“Spade,” Ewin said, and Kat jumped. She hadn’t heard him come downstairs, nor sit down at their table. “Yari _did_ save your life last night. And your brother’s.”

“All right, all right.” Spade’s scowl deepened. “I’m sorry.”

Thalen took off his hat, flicking his hair out of his face. Suddenly Kat understood the _real_ reason why she’d only seen one eye in the darkness; the other was cloudy, the iris pale and slightly distorted. His eyelid was weighed down by several vertical scars that ran from his eyebrow to his mouth. As Kat stared, more fascinated than horrified, the yellow eye moved towards her. She quickly dropped her gaze, feeling her face grow hot, knowing that he’d caught her staring. To his credit, he didn’t comment. “Beanhop tells me you were helping him on the wall last night,” he said. “Said you were a good shot.”

“Oh,” Kat stammered, “no, not that great.”

He chuckled. “Still impressive, given the circumstances.” He stuck out a hand. “I’m Thalen, by the way. And that’s my brother Yari.”

Kat glanced between the small, scarred Scorchlander and the taller, fair-haired Greenlander. She wanted to ask how they could possibly be related, but it felt like a rude question. “I’m Kat.”

They shook hands — an awkward handshake, given Kat’s injuries. She was glad he didn’t comment on those either. “I didn’t see you at World’s End,” he said.

“No.” Kat shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I was… uh, somewhere else.”

Thalen was staring at the brand. Yari nudged him, and he moved his gaze back to her eyes. “Oh yeah.” He grinned, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Well, don’t feel like you’ve missed out. World’s End is about as boring as Clownsteady.”

Clownsteady, that had to be it. It was only about a day out of Shark. “You’re imperials, then,” Kat said aloud.

“We can’t all be perfect.”

“I’ve never been to the southern territories.”

“They’re a good place, if you like to be bored.” He fiddled with his hat. “Some good ruins down that way, to be sure. I bet Finch will pay us well for some of the stuff we found.”

Kat glanced at Spade. Spade glanced at Kat. Jared, who’d opened his mouth to speak, yelped as Spade kicked him under the table.

“Do you three have anything you need to get off your chests?” Ewin said as the awkwardness grew into a tense silence.

“Finch won’t be paying you.” Kat hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but the words sprang unbidden from her lips. “I’m sorry, Spade.”

“Kat!”

“What do you mean?” Ewin said, as Spade’s eyes darted between him and Kat.

“Uhh…” Suddenly regretting her impulse, Kat rubbed at the healing brand. “World’s End got attacked.”

“Attacked?” Thalen’s good eye widened. “The Holy Nation attacked it?”

Spade’s bare toes nudged Kat’s bandaged ones. Kat didn’t need to look at her to see the pleading expression on her face. _Don’t tell them the truth._ “We don’t know who attacked it,” she lied. “We weren’t there. We were uh, a bit past World’s End, and then we saw smoke coming up from the mountain. When we went back, everyone was dead. I’m sorry.”

Ewin sat back, looking stunned. “What do you mean _everyone?_ You mean to say the Holy Nation slaughtered the whole town?”

“They _do_ have a bit of a reputation for doing that,” Yari pointed out, but his voice shook. “If they took one step past the statues the Tech Hunters put on the gates, they’d see all manner of non-humans about. And Finch even had a Skeleton for an assistant.”

“Everyone’s dead,” Kat said, praying her face wasn’t telling the men more than she was saying. “The University’s in ruins. We came south because… well, we didn’t know where else to go.”

“Here.” Spade pulled something out of her pocket and laid it on the table in front of Ewin. It was the goggles she’d retrieved from the University. “Think they might have been Sabina’s.”

“Sabina’s…” Ewin picked up the goggles, staring at the soot-smeared lenses. “This is what you didn’t want to tell us last night.”

“It felt like a bad time,” Spade said quietly.

“Mik and Beanhop deserve to know. We’ll discuss it once they’re awake.” Ewin passed back the goggles with an obvious effort. “The aftermath… it must have been a difficult thing to witness. I’m sorry.”

“We found Iyo’s body,” Jared said. “We buried him. Best we could, anyway. We couldn’t do the same for everyone.”

Yari’s face paled around his freckles. “I suppose Finch won’t be getting that AI core.”

“No,” Ewin said. “No, he won’t be.” He pushed back his chair. “Excuse me a moment.”

“What is it with Tech Hunters and getting massacred?” Thalen said as the bar door closed behind Ewin. It was a clear, albeit shaky attempt at injecting levity, but the table still glared at him. “Sorry.”

“What do you mean?” Kat asked.

“The Butcher of Black Scratch,” Spade said carefully. “About a decade ago. All the bounty posters are still up, they never caught the culprit. But… don’t mention Black Scratch to Ewin. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“And now it’s happened again,” Thalen said, “only with his own people.”

Kat’s insides crawled like lice; she knew as well as the twins did that the Holy Nation hadn’t been responsible. But all she could do was sit in silence; if she told the brothers the truth, that it was the United Cities that had burned World’s End to the ground, it would raise far more questions than they could answer. _This was our fault. This was all our fault._ “What will you do?” she said.

“That’s Ewin’s call,” Yari said with a slight shrug. “Thalen and I aren’t Tech Hunters, so we can’t say how this will affect them… but I suppose in the short term, we’ll have to brave the gutters again and head to Flats Lagoon. After that, who knows? The Tech Hunters mostly work for the University, and now it’s gone. We’ll probably have to go back to the United Cities to look for work.”

“The University isn’t the only place the Tech Hunters have,” Spade said a little desperately. “There’s the library in Black Scratch. And I’m sure someone like Dr Swimmer will be able to step into Finch’s shoes. Not that bugmen wear shoes.”

“Perhaps,” said Yari.

Kat stood up, wincing a little under her own body weight. “I’m going back to bed.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Yari said. “We’ll need all the rest we can get if we’re going to Flats Lagoon.”

There was too much in the air between them all — the guilt, the grief, the vague sense that the twins disapproved of what she’d done. That indelible stain on Kat’s conscience bloomed for a second, spreading across even more of her soul.

She made it as far as her bed before the flames caught up with her.

* * *

There had been plenty of times in Ava’s life when being a doctor had felt like a serious conflict of interest. To her surprise, trying to help the former Inquisitor of Okran’s Shield — a man who’d probably have had her burned alive if he’d still had any power — felt like less of a conflict than she’d imagined it would be.

She peered past the cage bars, wishing she could see better. From what she _could_ see — and hear — she could tell they’d fucked him up over the past few days, and fucked him up _good._ There was a slight wheeziness in his breathing and, from the nasally way in which he responded to her questions, it sounded like they’d busted his nose.

“Is it bleeding again?” she said, hearing his breathing thicken. “Tilt your head forward and pinch the middle of your nose. It’ll make it stop faster, and you won’t get the blood running down your throat.”

“Ava, huh?” He rasped. It wasn’t the first time he’d used her name, but it was the first time she’d heard any kind of recognition in his voice. She suspected she knew what he was about to say. “You’re that doctor woman, aren’t you? The daughter of that heretic Mervan down in Stack.”

_There it is._ “That doctor woman,” Ava reminded him, “is trying to help you.”

She still wasn’t sure _why_ she was helping him. Doing anything that required thinking or concentration or an emotional connection to the world was difficult at the best of times, and painful at the worst. Already she could feel the prison threatening to spin away from her and turn her into a silent, ghostly observer once again. As welcoming as that state could be, it wasn’t what she needed right now. “You really should take my advice, Inquisitor. You sound as if you’ve been suffocating for the past few nights.”

“Why would I take the advice of a woman, and a Narko worshipper at that?”

Ava slumped against the bars. Even holding her head up was taking it out of her. “You’re looking for Narko in the wrong place. There’s plenty of suffering surrounding us, but I’m trying to lessen yours. Be proud and righteous if you want. There’s nothing obliging me to try and do Okran’s will in a place like this.”

“A repentant sinner,” he said thickly. “You’ve come back to the light, have you, now that you’ve tasted the darkness?”

“Okran hasn’t answered any of my prayers since I’ve been in this place.” Maybe it was too late. Maybe there was no light anywhere in her future — metaphysical or otherwise. “I’ve prayed plenty, but I don’t feel him anymore.”

His tone changed a little. “And what do you pray for?”

“Deliverance.” She thought back to Ruka, screaming in agony as Lady Sanda tortured her. She thought of Kat and Rei, their fates unknown but probably bleak. She thought of herself, how she’d spent day after day wishing for death in this dark, empty nothingness. “Of whatever sort.”

Valtena didn’t respond to that, and Ava realised she didn’t really care. A short conversation was still something. She allowed herself to slide to the floor of her cage, the sores on her cheek flaring for a second as her face hit the ground. The world grew just a little fuzzier, trying to draw her away from her mind once again. She was ready to let it happen when something occurred to her. “The Shield… what happened?”

“It’s not a matter I would discuss with a woman.”

“You know, I think you’re the first new arrival since Ruka and I got here. New prisoners don’t come by often.” She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling of her cage. “If you’re holding out for a male conversationalist, you might be waiting a long time… and trust me when I say you’ll start going mad if you don’t speak to anyone.”

Valtena was silent, and for a moment Ava thought she might have lost the fight. But then he sighed, a sigh that was immediately followed up with a muffled, unholy curse. She looked over to see him hunched in his cell, tipping his head forward to stem the flow of blood. Perhaps when it came to it, he _was_ willing to listen to her.

“We were outsmarted,” he said finally. “The imperials found a passage of sorts, a mile or two up from the Shield. They marched half their army along that tiny path. We were assaulted from two directions, trapped in our own chokepoint like rats. We had nowhere to hide.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t sorry. You’re no friend of the Holy Nation.”

“Perhaps not anymore, but I can empathise with a loss like that.” She went back to looking at the ceiling, trying not to think about whatever facial expressions he was making in the dark. “An Inquisitor like you gave the order to have my father shot down. I have friends that I don’t know the fates of. I have a friend a few cellblocks over, and I was forced to watch as a noble used blood spider venom on her. I saw the guards break a fellow prisoner’s arm. I’ve lost it all, just as you have.”

“My loss is temporary. The Holy Nation will prevail. Okran will deliver me from this pit of Narko’s, and I’ll return to the river-lands to lead great armies. Soon enough we will have Tengu’s head on a stake… and the head of any noble who opposes us.”

“And you believe that?” Ava said.

For a second he sounded almost puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I? Why wouldn’t _you?_ Don’t you trust in Okran?”

“The Holy Nation is at war with an empire that’s far bigger than itself. I can’t see it going that well for them. What’s to say Okran will work in the way that’s obvious to human minds?” She shrugged. “I suppose I still trust in Okran, in a way. But only he knows what his plan is.”

“I should have known better than to speak with a heretic,” said Valtena, and that was the end of the conversation. Ava closed her eyes and wondered where she stood in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps she really did stand with Narko, and Valtena was right in not wanting to talk to her…

The past year had been a test of faith like none Ava had ever faced before. Just as she’d reached that comfortable point of having things figured out, Kat and Rei had thrown a serious spanner in the works. She wondered if she regretted ever having helped them — after all, she wouldn’t be lying here asking herself this question if she’d just left them to die in the desert — but even with all that had happened, she’d probably do the same all over again. She wasn’t even entirely sure she regretted her role in getting vengeance for Rei.

But then there was Ruka.

They hadn’t had a lot of time for heart-to-hearts in the narrow space between fleeing the stone camp and getting captured by Marisa and the samurai. Ava had even found it awkward at the time, a topic she just wanted to put behind her and avoid at all costs. Maybe she’d still been processing what Ruka had said to her back in the slavers bar.

Maybe she still was.

The more Ava thought about Ruka, the more uncertain she became. Weeks of darkness had turned the entire notion of love into even more of an abstraction, an abstraction categorised with lines that were far too clearly defined. Whatever she felt towards Ruka, it scarcely mattered anyway; they had at least one cellblock separating them, and the old days of travelling together across the sands had never seemed so far away.

The ceiling of Ava’s cage was looking even blurrier than usual. It took her several seconds of trying to focus on it before she realised she was crying. She unthinkingly lifted a hand to rub her eyes, jerking its chain, and spent the next minute balling her hands into fists and trying to suppress the furious, helpless scream that threatened to burst out.

Eventually that wild fury broke, leaving behind a barren sense of misery. Ava curled back into the fetal position, suppressing the desperate urge to sob. If she could have had one thing in that moment, it would have been the Inquisitor’s faith… but both Okran and Valtena remained sternly silent. Disapproval, or simply indifference? She tried not to weep out loud, and failed at it.

When the sobbing was finally over Ava wasn’t sure how long she’d been crying, or if she’d been praying out loud, or if it had changed anything of how Okran regarded her. The one thing she _did_ know for certain was that she hadn’t gone entirely unobserved; even if Okran hadn’t heard her, Valtena had. From the slight shift in the silence between their cages, he hadn’t just heard her tears but had been listening to them. For a moment she thought he might say something — even if that something was simply a banal religious platitude — but the silence remained unbroken.

_It’s not as if he would care for a weeping woman,_ she reminded herself, and curled into a tighter ball. _He probably sees this as a punishment I deserve._

Her escape beckoned to her, as if wondering why she was resisting it. Ava gave in and allowed it to pull her away from her mind. Things felt gentler in this state, more relaxing. Her hands, cuffed and scratched and bitten, took on the guise of someone else’s. The cage bars distorted slightly, almost as if they were melting. The surrealness of it all was almost addictive, just like the beautiful memories she could so easily drift into…

This time she stayed a little more grounded than usual, or as she’d come to think of it, closer to herself. She was still aware of all the aches and pains, the slight sharpness that still came with breathing in, the stiff coating of dirt on her skin and clothes and hair. She was still aware of the dull exhaustion and the shakiness that came with an empty stomach. But all of that was manageable, for as long as she stayed detached from her surroundings…

A voice floated past Ava’s ears, thick and nasally with the unmistakeable lilt of the river-lands. Valtena’s voice. She faltered, trying to piece the words together, but it was too late; he had finished saying whatever he had wanted to say. She gave up on guessing whatever that might have been and instead deepened the trance, stirring up the memories she most wanted to lose herself in.

Beyond her protective little bubble, she felt the silence shift again as the Inquisitor continued to observe her.


	5. Convalescence

“Ready?” Ewin said.

Jared nodded, not entirely sure he was. The gritty pain in his eyes had slowly subsided over the past few days, but he’d had the bandages on the whole time, and there was a nagging fear that he might not be able to see when they were taken off. He held his breath, keeping his eyes closed as Ewin loosened the bandage.

“Since it’s getting dark,” Ewin said, “it should be a gentle readjustment. Tell me what you see.”

Jared opened his eyes, blinking as he tried to refocus. The first thing he noticed was Ewin’s face about three inches from his nose, peering intently at him. “Do you know how off-putting that is?”

“Do _you_ know how much you complain when I try and help you?” As Jared scanned the roof, Ewin took hold of his chin and forced him to face forward. “Two days of sunburned corneas and your first instinct is to stare at the sunset. Sometimes I wonder if your intelligence begins and ends with flirting and causing trouble.”

“I do not _flirt.”_

“I notice you aren’t denying causing trouble. Does anything still hurt?”

“Just the insinuations against my character.”

“Take this seriously, Jared.”

Jared sighed. “It doesn’t hurt. I can see fine.”

Ewin let out a soft hiss through his teeth. “Is your vision blurry, distorted? Is it dark? Are you able to see colours? If you look at that lantern on the table, is there any glare on it? Does it hurt to look at it? Are you seeing halos, are you seeing double, are you seeing rainbows or bright spots or—”

“None of that,” Jared said quickly, sensing Ewin was entering full fussing-mother mode. “It’s normal. Like I said, I can see fine… my eyes are just getting used to stuff again.”

“Hmm.” Ewin reached for the lantern, holding it in front of Jared’s face. “Look at the light and try not to blink too much. I want to see how responsive your pupils are… yeah, they seem OK. If you’re satisfied that your vision is normal — and _not_ just trying to avoid my questions — I don’t think you’ve much to worry about.” He replaced the lantern on the table. “We’d better test your balance. Let’s go for a walk.”

Reluctantly, Jared reached for his boots. “I wanted to talk to Spade. And Mik.”

“You’ve plenty of time for conversation later,” Ewin said firmly, and Jared knew from experience that his tone brooked no argument. “Right now, we need to make sure _you’re_ doing OK.”

Jared wasn’t sure if it was his previous blindness or simply a lack of energy, but going down the stairs was no easy feat — not even now he could see. At a couple of points, he stumbled on the steps and Ewin grabbed him by the arm.

“You’re doing well,” he said. “Keep going.”

Spade was sitting in the bar with the two Clownsteady mercenaries Jared had briefly met in World’s End. She smirked at Jared’s wobbly arrival. “You look like a kid taking his first steps.”

“I feel like one.” He’d gotten almost used to walking in darkness. Now his brain was struggling with spatial awareness, and there was far too much visual information to process. “I swear this was easier when I was blind.”

“Eyes are weird,” Thalen said, lifting his drink as Jared lurched into the table. “There’s always an adjustment period. My balance was kinda bad when I lost my sight in this eye.” He gestured at the mess of hair covering his face.

“It’s still bad,” Yari remarked. “You’re even clumsier than you were before.”

“I’m not _that_ —” Thalen put his drink down with enough force to slosh the liquid inside. He grinned sheepishly. “You can’t expect me to have good depth perception.”

Jared perched on the side of the table, listening to their amicable bickering. He’d always liked Clownsteady accents. If he didn’t pay Thalen too much attention, he could almost imagine Koel was still here. “It’s good to see you all again properly.”

“Jared,” Ewin reminded him.

“All right, all right.”

The early twilight sky was a deep blue, a few straggly clouds still tinged with pink rust. Most of the brighter stars were already out. Over on the western horizon, Jared could just make out the last lingering glow of the sun, which had now set. “You know, I’m not sure I should be trusted with wandering about in the dark.”

Ewin was already on the rampart. “I might have misled you a little with the word _walk._ Sit down. I want to talk to you.”

Jared stared at Ewin with a slight suspicion, wondering if someone had said something more about World’s End.

“I’m not about to tell you off, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Ewin said as he sat down.

“Well, there’s a first.”

“We didn’t catch up properly in World’s End. I wanted to check how you were doing.” Ewin paused. “I’m here to listen if you want to talk anything over. I know things have been difficult for you, difficult for Spade.”

“Spade doesn’t think I’ve had a difficult year,” Jared said before he could stop himself. “She said I’d had an easy ride.”

Ewin raised an eyebrow. “She said that, did she?”

“We uh, we had an argument back in World’s End.”

“And do you think she’s right?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she is.”

“What happened to you, Jared… that’s not an easy ride. Before the stone camp…” Jared looked away, staring fixedly at the glow on the horizon. “And there’s nothing easy about being a slave. That’s without everything that’s happened since… World’s End, plus whatever responsibilities you had regarding your group’s survival. There’s no denying it’s been a difficult year.”

“Has Spade told you her side of things?”

“The slave master?” It felt almost like a careful prompt. Jared nodded to signal that he knew. “She’s suffered enormously, there’s no doubt about that. What I _do_ doubt is that she means anything she says in anger. You know your sister.”

“I used to.”

Ewin put his hand on Jared’s shoulder. “I think the two of you have been trying to avoid having a conversation. She’s carrying a lot of weight just as you are.”

“I’m not carrying weight,” Jared said. The stars blinked down at him, as if in silent judgement.

“What happened to Shryke and Koel wasn’t your fault any more than it was hers.”

“Oh, you think all the shit I said to Koel had nothing to do with his decision?” Jared balled his hands into fists, trying to resist the urge to punch the metal floor he was sitting on. “We didn’t even fucking learn. We went off on our own as well and look where it got us.”

“We all made a lot of mistakes. For what it’s worth, a lot of the failing is on me, and I’m sorry. I should have forced the squad to take a break. None of us were thinking properly going into that ruin, and that’s why your sister got hurt.”

Jared’s nails dug into his palms. Ewin’s words were a biting reminder that one little mistake was all it took for someone to die — or nearly die. “I couldn’t do anything to help her. All I could do was sit with her.” He’d never be able to shake the memory of Spade’s eyes as he’d tried to soothe her. The blood spider venom hadn’t paralysed her lungs, but she’d said afterwards it had felt like constant suffocation. “She was terrified.”

“Do you still blame Finch for that?” Ewin said gently.

“Not for what happened in the ruin. Just for how he handled it afterwards. Getting in our faces and calling us all timewasters. Fucking bastard… I know he’s dead now, but I still hate his guts.” He shrugged. “Still, going off on our own, that was our decision. Well… Spade’s mostly. I guess I can’t blame him for us getting enslaved in the desert.”

“So on that line of logic, maybe you shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened to Shryke and Koel.”

“That’s different. Me and Spade, we’re still alive. Shryke and Koel… aren’t. And they died still angry with us.”

“I don’t think Shryke had it in her to stay angry with you for long. As for Koel… well, I’m not sure even the worst argument would have broken the bond you two had.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Jared—”

“I said _I don’t want to talk about it!”_ His fist collided with the rampart in an echoing clang. Ewin watched him sadly as the vibrations died away. “You think I don’t have more pressing shit to worry about, Ewin? The people who are still alive? Mik and Rei, for starters. Getting to Flats Lagoon. Trying to not fucking _lose_ anyone in the process…”

There was a silence.

“OK,” Ewin said finally. “You know where I am if you need me. And Jared, it’s good to have you and Spade with us again. Mik and Beanhop have missed you.” Jared did not reply. “You know, Mik did her best to convince me to take you with us when we were leaving World’s End.”

“But you didn’t. You had ruins to loot.”

“You know we didn’t have anywhere permanent,” Ewin pointed out. “We still don’t. Honestly, we missed the mark there. Should have had a squad-house in World’s End.”

“Just as well we didn’t, huh? It’d be burned to the ground now, along with everything else.”

“That’s true… well, technically there are some squad-houses in Flats that don’t have anyone using them right now. And if we have to settle down while Mik recovers… it looks like we might be relocating there.”

“A squad-house?” Back when they’d freelanced, the twins had spent time in other squads’ personal buildings. Jared had always liked the idea of a permanent base — a true home to rest up in. “That sounds pretty good, to be honest.”

“And of course your group would be welcome to stay… it’s not like you have anywhere else to go. Is your hand OK?”

“Yeah,” Jared said with a wince.

“Let me look.”

“It’s fine,” Jared muttered, as Ewin inspected his scraped knuckles. “I’m not some kid who needs to be coddled.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be that troublesome sixteen-year-old with the smart mouth and hustling tactics. I haven’t forgotten the first time we met. Five-man bar fight, you caused. All over a game of Ninja Blades.”

“Six-man.”

“Well, there you go.” Ewin let go of his wrist. “No damage beyond the superficial. Try not to break anything before we set out from here.”

“If we’re done, I’m going back to the bar.” Jared got up, but something stopped him before he could leave. “You had this conversation with Spade already, didn’t you? She didn’t tell me.”

Ewin just smiled sadly. “You’d better go and say whatever you were going to say to her.”

Spade was still sitting with the brothers when Jared entered the bar. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he should intervene in their current discussion, then thought better of it and went up the stairs to pay Mik a visit instead.

“Hey, Mik,” he greeted her.

Mik had been sitting in bed looking downcast. Her eyes lit up a little at the sight of Jared. “Well, good to see one of us is looking less shitty.”

“You don’t look so shitty.”

Mik snorted. Her pixie-cut hair was limp with grease, and she didn’t look like she’d slept properly in weeks. “Thanks for trying to make a girl feel better, but I know what I look like.”

“You in much pain?” Jared said as he sat on the end of her bed.

“Oh no, it’s nothing really, just a little twinge.” She rolled her eyes. “Course it fucking hurts.”

“Sorry I haven’t really talked to you until now.” They’d spoken briefly, but there had been a certain awkwardness in him not being able to see her. “I meant to have a proper conversation, I just—”

Mik’s hand fluttered to the bandaged stump below her shoulder, a touch that was butterfly light. “You had your own shit to deal with. Besides, what happened to me was my own fault. Never fucking drinking again.”

Jared smiled a little. Mik without alcohol was like a noble without cats. “You say that, but you’ll be swigging the sake before long.”

“Huh. Yeah. Maybe.” Her mouth twisted. “Ewin says I’m lucky to even be alive.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Uhh.” Her cheeks coloured. “Not so much. Ewin filled me in afterwards. He’s still not pleased with me. I nearly got everyone in the squad killed… I _would_ have done, if there had been more gutters in that nest. Just as well we picked up those two lads from Clownsteady, or we’d all have been screwed. And now we’re all stuck here, and the guys are doing guard work to try and pay for all this…”

“At least nobody’s dead. And who knows, maybe you’ll even get a Skeleton limb out of it.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. But without speaking to a surgeon I won’t know. Could be that the nerves are too damaged for a prosthesis…” She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Lost World’s End, lost my arm, nearly lost you and Spade going by what I heard going on… what a fucking ride the last few weeks have been. Guess you’re right about the sake, huh?”

She sounded upbeat enough, but Jared knew it was all bravado. “You know you don’t have to pretend, yeah?”

Mik gave him a look. “You do all the time.”

“That’s not…”

“Coz we’re both a pair of fucked-up idiots.” She chuckled faintly. “Fucked-up idiots who deal with their problems in the wrong way. And then we wonder why the Tech Hunters have the reputation they do.”

“Hey, the Tech Hunters had a reputation long before either of us came along. It’s our job to maintain it, right?”

“Try telling that to Ewin.”

They sat and looked at the stars for a few minutes. It was a clear night and Jared began to shiver. Mik glanced at his skinny frame with pity. “You can take the blanket, you know,” she said.

“I’m not cold.”

The mattress moved a little, and her strong arm hooked itself around his shoulders. “Shit, you’re skinny.”

“You ever seen a well-fed slave?”

“You’re no slave.” Her hand touched his stubby horns, just for a moment. “They’re bastards for doing this to you. _Bastards.”_

“Fuck the United Cities, am I right?”

“At least you escaped.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “All that time you were gone, I worried something might have happened to you. When I saw you in World’s End…”

“Ewin said you wanted to take us with you.”

“Yeah. Shit, it’s just as well we didn’t, given the circumstances, but… I didn’t want to leave you. You know, you should come back.”

“What, be a full Tech Hunter again?”

“Why not?” She unhooked her arm and reached for his hand. “We can beat up gutters once we’ve both recovered. It’ll be like old times.”

“I’m surprised you want anything to do with gutters after what happened.”

“Gutters are like rain in the river-lands. Unavoidable.”

“I guess it’s something I’d have to think about. And it’d depend on Spade, what she wants to do.”

“The two of you are still bloody inseparable then.”

Jared didn’t answer. Mik laughed, as if taking his silence for denial. “You know we’d all love to have you back in the squad. I know so much shit has happened and it can never be exactly the way it was, but we missed you.” Her hand squeezed his. _“I_ missed you. So… what d’you think?”

“I don’t know.” That was the issue with being back in a squad, facing danger on an almost daily basis with people he couldn’t bear to lose. He let go of Mik’s hand — even though he wasn’t exactly _with_ Rei, it still felt disloyal to her somehow. “Maybe all that kind of stuff is best left in the past.”

“I see.” Her voice was quiet but accepting. “After everything that’s happened… I understand it. But Jared, please give it some thought.”

“I will,” he said.

Somehow, the words felt like yet more lies.

* * *

She’d disappointed Lady Sanda. Marisa stood stiffly to attention, the back of her shirt damp between her armour and her skin, and waited for her punishment.

She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d done. It was difficult to tell with Lady Sanda, and her lady was rarely forthcoming. Lady Sanda preferred to leave her guards to stew in their own fear, to run through every possible transgression in their minds before the true reason was revealed in a flood of anger — and, if the one who’d aroused her ire was particularly unlucky, the sharp edge of her sword. Marisa was forcing herself not to look at the sword. She desperately hoped that Lady Sanda would not be using it today.

“Explain how we lost it,” said Lady Sanda.

“My lady…” Marisa couldn’t think; her mind was thick and slow and full of cactus stodge. “I don’t understand—”

 _“The Shield!”_ Lady Sanda’s shriek echoed off the walls of the noble-house… was it the noble-house, or was it Tengu’s palace? Marisa looked but did not see. The walls closed in around her like fists, forcing her to break her attentive stance and stumble closer to Lady Sanda. They were surrounded by bodies, bodies that were bloodied and unrecognisable. “The Shield has been retaken. The Holy Nation is swarming over the desert like vermin. We are in danger, Marisa, and it is _your_ fault.”

“But my lady—”

“It’s time for you to pay that little doctor a visit.” The pressing walls disintegrated into blackness, and Lady Sanda advanced. Marisa took an involuntary step back, then another and another, until she was deep inside a menacing darkness that smelled of blood and death. “A _permanent_ visit.”

“My lady—”

“Your incompetence has cost the empire dearly. Perhaps you are a traitor. Just like the Okranite you now work for.”

Marisa tried to speak, but the stench of death was in her throat and all she could do was choke. The darkness was compressing her breathing space, crushing her ribs, squeezing a tight metal band around her skull. Then it broke, and she fell into pieces into darkness, darkness and…

_Light?_

She coughed, and found she was able to breathe. The room was suddenly hot and bright, the smell of rot and decay replaced by the fragrant scent of lavender. Her eyelids twitched under the film of glue that seemed to be fusing them shut. Then, with a sudden heaving motion that felt like the world was tipping into place, things settled. When she finally forced her eyes open, a face stared into her own that did not resemble Lady Sanda’s at all.

“Cassie?” Marisa tried to sit up, but the rest of her might as well have been missing for all the effect it had. Her head still swirled with fog. “What are you doing?”

There came the sound of something being wrung out, and a damp cloth was laid on Marisa’s forehead. Marisa stared at Cassie, seeking answers and not seeing them. Had she been ill? “Cassie, what happened?”

There came the sound of footsteps, and Cassie glanced at something out of Marisa’s line of sight. A moment later, a second face came into view. “Marisa. It’s good to have you with us.”

“My lord.” Marisa made another, more panicky attempt to move. As if realising what she was doing, Cassie put a hand on her shoulder and forced her to lie still. “I’m so sorry, my lord. I—”

“You don’t have to spring to attention on my account, Marisa. You’ve been unwell. You need to rest.”

“Unwell…” Marisa vaguely remembered the previous afternoon, when Lord Aramid had told her she’d looked ill. She must have fallen asleep after he’d left her with Cassie. “It was an infection, wasn’t it?” she said with sudden fear. “My leg…”

Lord Aramid nodded gravely. “I’d feared it might happen, when I saw it wasn’t healing well. But if it’s any consolation, there was no need to amputate any more of it.”

“I was feeling fine, mostly… I don’t understand how it came on so suddenly.” She moved her head a little, and the cloth began to slip. Cassie readjusted it. Marisa wondered if she was really that feverish; aside from the general heat in the room and her own state of confusion, she didn’t feel especially ill.

“Do you remember anything from when you were unconscious?” Lord Aramid said.

“Just fever dreams.”

Lord Aramid gestured for Cassie to close the windows. Marisa hadn’t even realised they were open. _I must have been really unwell._ “I heard you mumbling about the Shield.”

“That was one of them. I don’t remember the rest. Just Lady Sanda, and something about the Shield being recaptured…” She shivered. “It felt so real.”

“Ah, yes.” Lord Aramid’s expression did not change. “It may come as some comfort to you to know that Lady Sanda remains in Bark, and has not been to Heft since the summit three weeks ago. The Shield, on the other hand…”

Marisa’s eyes widened. “That really happened?”

“It sounds as though you heard more than you realise. The Shield has indeed been recaptured.”

“My lord, you mean—”

“The Okranites launched a fierce counter-attack and we lost it. We don’t yet know how many casualties there were and how many were taken prisoner, but it’s as well you fell ill when you did. I hate to think what might have happened if we’d been in the Shield when it was retaken.”

 _The summit three weeks ago,_ Marisa thought. Something wasn’t adding up, and a horrible suspicion had just occurred to her. “My lord, how long have I been here?”

Lord Aramid, who was watching Cassie struggle with the pole hook, did not immediately reply.

“I thought it was just a day, but it’s been more than that, hasn’t it, my lord?”

“Six days,” he said eventually, to Marisa’s horror. “Cassie has been nursing you. We were afraid your wound might finally claim you… but it would seem you were quite correct about samurai not dying easily.” He crossed the room and sat on the stool Cassie had been occupying. “How do you feel?”

“Tired, my lord.” Her nose was itching, but she didn’t have the strength to scratch it. She tried to twitch the muscles in her face to satisfy the urge, but even those muscles were weak. “If the Shield’s gone, what happens next?”

The windows closed with a dull slam. Lord Aramid’s taut face relaxed just a little. “I’m sure there’ll be an emergency council soon enough… I seem to have spent more time at the palace than here, this past week. Right now it’s looking like we might have kicked a hornet’s nest.” He sighed. “If only we’d been able to hang onto the Shield things would be different, but now the Okranites have the upper hand on that border, and they’re _angry.”_

“So what will the emperor do with us now? Will we still need to leave Heft? Or—”

“Don’t concern yourself with that for now, Marisa. Concern yourself with your recovery.”

“But my lord—”

“I’m sure that with the help of the Inner Circle, the emperor will make other plans… plans we will learn of, given time. Now try and sleep. Healing takes a lot of energy.”

“Yes, my lord.”

When Lord Aramid had gone, Cassie returned to Marisa’s side. Marisa frowned at her. She seemed pleased to see her mistress awake, but there was something else there too. Marisa was sure Cassie’s eyes darted to where Lord Aramid had been standing just a few moments before, her mouth tightening. But then the expression was gone, and the hands lying on top of Marisa’s betrayed nothing but gentle concern.

“Cassie?”

Cassie jumped. Marisa swallowed, running her tongue over her lips. “I don’t suppose you could get me a glass of water?”

Cassie nodded unsmilingly and took her hands away from Marisa’s. Marisa wished she could ask Cassie questions, or at the very least get some kind of verbal reassurance that things would be OK, but she knew that would never be possible.

Having someone there to help her drink was almost embarrassing now she’d gotten used to doing most things on her own again. She wondered how much she’d have to relearn how to do and how long that might take — it was strange to imagine how just a week ago, she’d been expecting another journey across the sands.

“Thank you for looking after me,” she said, as Cassie moved to take the empty glass away. The sense that someone cared about her wellbeing was still a strange one. Lady Sanda would have thrown her out of the noble-house, unconscious or not, and left her to die in the sun. “Guess it’s just as well we’re not in Bark anymore, huh?”

Cassie retreated without a response. Marisa closed her eyes, allowing her head to sink a little more deeply into the pillow. Her last conscious thought before Lady Sanda’s shadows reclaimed her was that in spite of the infection, her leg was troubling her less than it had in over two months.


	6. Flame

Something had changed.

Even confined to a small cage in near-total darkness, Ava had noticed a shift in recent days. It was difficult to know what that shift was or guess at what it might be, but the difference in atmosphere was palpable. She’d heard it in the guards’ whispers behind their visored helmets, in the way the Warden strode about and rapped his heavy jitte against anything that bothered him, in the mournful, disquieted wails of the screamer. The air smelled like nervous sweat and almost tasted of it too. Whatever had happened, it had evidently set the guards on edge, and that attitude was being mirrored in the prisoners.

As much as she’d hated the darkness in the early days, Ava had come to appreciate it. With all the jumpiness that surrounded her, the dark was safe and soothing. The guards didn’t enjoy patrolling this cellblock and tended to avoid it more than the others. She’d heard them muttering on occasion about getting the broken light fixed.

But the light was still broken and, for the most part, Ava remained unseen. Unseen, and probably sleeping better than any other captive in the Vault. Right now, however, she was awake — lying as stretched out as possible and using her arms as an awkward, bony pillow. She’d woken about ten minutes earlier with pins and needles everywhere, and the prickling sensation had only just receded. Her forearms still felt vaguely dead from where her head was lying on them.

Somewhere on this upper floor, the guards were talking. Ava was tempted to sit up to listen — she needed more practice at sitting up without having to hold the bars for support — but her instincts told her to stay still and quiet. Footsteps passed across the metal tiles towards her cellblock, then did a sudden about-turn and faded away again. The ramp echoed with boots as multiple pairs of feet went downstairs.

There were probably still guards about, but the discomfort was enough for Ava to move anyway. Readjusting her position was difficult, and she let out an involuntary grunt as her deadened arms refused to move properly. As a doctor she’d seen terrible muscle wasting on patients who couldn’t exercise their limbs for one reason or another, and she knew it had already happened to her. It occurred to her that Luquin’s incessant stretching and pacing was an example she should perhaps have followed sooner.

Voices, far less whispered than they’d been upstairs, sounded through the floor. Ava was ready to ignore them and go back to sleep, but curiosity got the better of her. It wasn’t easy to feel curious in Tengu’s Vault, but the guards’ strange behaviour had left her sufficiently mystified. She laid her ear to the floor, wincing as the dust agitated the sores on her cheek, and listened.

She’d tried this trick before, but it had never worked. Sound carried strangely in the Vault, and having multiple layers of steel and iron between herself and the guards downstairs tended to mute things a little. But either the guards were directly beneath her or they were standing in the right place for things to reverberate, because this time she could hear their conversation almost as clearly as if they’d been standing a floor above.

“… wouldn’t you have thought it’d be prudent to move him?”

“Huh? Move him? Move him where?”

“I don’t know, the palace perhaps? We’re a long way from Heft here…”

“But it doesn’t matter, does it? If they come looking for him, we’re just as dead if he’s here as if he were in Heft.”

“Don’t say that. We’re not—”

“Gentlemen.” The Warden’s voice was as slick as ever, yet underlined with a frostiness that made Ava shiver. “Unless I am much mistaken and you have _already_ completed your shifts, you are still on duty. Why are you down here telling stories designed to frighten children?”

“Warden, we believe that with the recent incident surrounding the Shield’s recapture—”

“Recent incident, you say? Are you really so afraid of Okranites?”

“Sir, with all due respect—”

 _“Enough!”_ The Warden’s voice was so furious Ava flinched and pulled her ear away. Whatever he said next was lost in muffled anger, but the meaning was plain. Ava tried to listen again but the conversation was over — a conversation that the Warden had evidently won. She could hear sullen footsteps on the ramp again, this time ascending.

 _The Shield’s recapture._ Ava might have hated both sides of the war with every ounce of strength she still had, but she’d have been lying if sheʼd said those words hadn’t filled her with glee.

“Inquisitor,” she whispered as loudly as she dared.

There was a slight hitch in Valtena’s soft snores, as if he’d heard her in his dreams. Ava sat up with difficulty, her head spinning as soon as it was upright, and tapped her fingernail on one of the cage bars. “Inquisitor!”

It would have been safer to wait until morning — the very act of waking him was a risky one — but she could already feel the information slipping from her grasp. Her memory was too hazy these days. If she allowed herself to go back to sleep, everything she’d just learned would be lost to her. _“Valtena!”_

Valtena’s snores stopped, and she heard him stirring in the cage. He was awake. Awake, and not exactly pleased at having been woken. “What is it, woman? I was asleep.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” She leaned on the bars, her face pressed against the roughened, rusted edges. “I thought you might want to know. It sounds like the Shield has been recaptured.”

 _“Re_ captured?” Even though she couldn’t see him, she knew his eyes had widened at that. “How do you know?”

“I overheard them.” She curled her fingers around the bars. Even her grip was weak; her hands were already sliding. “They were talking downstairs and… I think they were talking about you. They sounded worried. Like they thought the Holy Nation might come looking for you.”

“I told you Okran would prevail. All it takes is faith.” But the stiffness in Valtena’s manner was betrayed by an undercurrent of excitement. “Things will change for the United Cities, and very soon. Just wait for it.”

“What _do_ you think will happen, Inquisitor?” She kept her voice low, trying to hint without words that he should do the same. Loud voices were always the first to be silenced. “I’m sure you have more of a head for military strategy than I do.”

“If I had a campaign map to look at, I’d be able to give you more of an answer. But trying to increase our presence in Bast might help defend us from the north. And perhaps the ruins of World’s End would be useful for an outpost. It would certainly make a good lookout point towards the east… the larger twin to Okran’s Fist.”

“Perhaps. I don’t suppose the Holy Nation will… wait.” A horrible cold fist had just squeezed her in the guts. “The ruins of World’s End?”

“Of course, you wouldn’t know about that. The destruction of that town up in the mountains… it was the first sign of aggression the United Cities showed towards us. They marched across our territory and did to it… well, what we did to Bast. Only they did far worse to the people. They were Okran-worshippers by all accounts and yet… massacred by Narko’s forces in the blink of an eye. They say Eyegore was involved.”

 _Okran have mercy._ The cold fist squeezed harder, stealing Ava’s breath. She should have known. She should have known from the moment Tengu sent Eyegore after Rei. When time had passed and Eyegore had not dragged Rei to the Vault in chains, Ava had simply assumed — or hoped, perhaps — that she’d escaped her fate. Now she thought about it, that possibility didn’t seem nearly so likely anymore. Where would Rei and the slaves have even gone after reaching World’s End? They must have stayed there to recover at the very least, and then…

She’d killed them. She’d killed them by getting herself captured. She might as well have put them to the sword herself, along with all the innocents in World’s End. If only Ava, Ruka and Kat had gone with them, they might all still be alive… and the University would still be standing.

Ava had longed to visit the University ever since she’d first learned about. To visit the Machinists and the Tech Hunters, and to get her hands on as much of that ancient knowledge as possible. But now those books were probably burned to cinders, and the academics who’d so lovingly preserved them rotting corpses. Mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, slaves and free people and a tormented Shek girl with a bonedog puppy… all gone forever.

Her fault. All her fault. When had she gone from saving lives to destroying them?

“The darkness _will not win,”_ Valtena said, and Ava realised she was sobbing out loud. “With Okran’s soldiers at the Shield, we will safeguard our homeland. Whether it takes a generation or a lifetime, we will topple the cruel empire and replace it with light and goodness.”

The downfall of the United Cities. A seething rage clenched Ava’s jaw for a second, surging past the grief, and her weak grip tightened just a little around the bars. “It’s something I would like to see.”

“And perhaps you shall,” he replied.

Ava let go of the bars. Her body wobbled, ready to collapse, but to her surprise and relief she managed to lie back down without bruising herself. “Not me,” she said quietly. “Perhaps the ones outside.”

“Have some faith.”

Faith? She’d prayed for Rei’s safety. She’d _had_ faith in Okran, the best she could. And what had that done? Having faith in Okran for anything — especially things that seemed impossible — felt almost undeserved on his account. Ava knew her thoughts were blasphemous, but still they gnawed away at her.

Maybe Okran wasn’t even real.

That particular thought — or perhaps more accurately, fear — had crossed Ava’s mind several times in the past. Each time she had pushed the idea away, afraid of the power it held. If Okran was real only in the minds of those who believed in him, what did it leave her with? Perhaps a certain freedom to associate with darkened to her heart’s content, and do what she wanted without spiritual consequences… but she wasn’t at all sure that freedom was better.

It certainly wasn’t right now. Not like this, chained and vulnerable and scared for what the future held. She _needed_ Okran right now. She _needed_ something that made her feel less alone.

“I don’t think I have faith anymore,” she said. “I don’t think I even have belief.”

“Then you need to find it.”

Somehow the Inquisitor’s response felt worse than silence. Ava closed her eyes, squeezing out the last lingering tears. It was only much later, when Valtena had fallen asleep again and the guards had changed, that she clasped her weary fingers together and sent up another desperate plea for something to listen to her.

* * *

The candle on the table had burned down to a blob of melted wax in the glass casing. Jared watched the guttering flame out of the corner of his eyes as he shuffled his deck of cards. The electric lights didn’t fully reach this section of the bar. Had he not already had an inkling of what might be coming, he’d have suggested a move to somewhere less gloomy.

Sometimes, serious conversations were best had in the dark.

The candle flame made a last gasp at the air and sputtered out. As if a trance had just been broken, Ewin turned to Beanhop with a look of mild annoyance on his face.

“Do you think those freelancers are coming or not?” he said.

Beanhop shrugged. “Yari said they’d be along.”

Ewin was a mostly patient man, but his sigh hinted at some serious exasperation — and, Jared suspected, more than a little worry. “We’ll give it another couple of minutes. If they don’t show up, we’d better go looking for them.”

The waiting continued. Jared continued to shuffle, dropping one of the cards in the process. The table, sticky with years of spilled drinks, glued the card to the spot where it had fallen, and it took him a careful fingernail to prise it free.

“Stop it,” Spade hissed; Jared’s fidgeting was evidently getting on her already-frayed nerves. “Can’t you just sit _still_ for five minutes?”

It had been longer than five minutes, though there was no arguing with Spade when she was this tense. Jared returned the slightly sticky card to the deck and slipped them into his back pocket. “You know,” he said, “we should really have Mik here.”

“I’ve already spoken to Mik,” Ewin said. “Right now, she needs rest.”

“How are things between you and Mik, anyway?” Spade whispered to him. “They seemed kind of awkward.”

“Considering how emotionally _weird_ last year was, I’m not really surprised.” He sat back on the stool, trying to resist the urge to drum his fingers on the sticky table. He was used to the absence of other patrons by now — he’d been here a week after all — but there was a certain eerie silence to a bar that was shut down for the night. With so little custom, the barkeep had retired upstairs, and with the exception of the bar guards and a few lights that were still on, the place was utterly deserted. Whatever Ewin wanted to talk about — World’s End was Jared’s guess — he didn’t want them to be overheard. Jared wondered what he and Spade would say if confronted.

Time passed. Ewin sighed and pushed back his seat. “Well, I suppose we should—”

The door banged open, revealing two silhouettes in the doorway. One of the silhouettes had a single glowing eye, the other a polearm. Ewin, who’d been in the process of standing up, slowly sat back down. “Where have you two been?” he demanded.

“Dealing with our little spider problem.” Thalen was grinning. Even in this light Jared could see he was splattered with bug juices. “Here…”

“Not on the table!” Ewin said, but it was too late; Thalen had already dumped a handful of spider fangs on the table. Spade’s lip curled as she backed her stool away. Yari was wincing. Privately, Jared didn’t think the addition of a few bits of dead spider could make the table much dirtier. “People _eat_ off that…”

Thalen threw himself onto a stool. “No more spiders. You’re welcome.”

“We’re sorry we’re late, captain,” Yari said.

Ewin’s gaze softened. “Are either of you hurt?”

“Just a few scrapes and scratches. We’ll be fine.”

“I’m glad you boys are all right… but in future, don’t disappear into the night without telling us where you’re going. If things had gone badly for you… Still, now you’re here, we can get started.” He took a map out of his pocket and, nudging the candle out of the way, spread it across the table. “We need to discuss getting to Flats Lagoon.”

“So we’re definitely going, then?” Spade said.

“In an ideal world, those of us who needed rest would get it, but now Mik’s in a better state for travelling, she needs to be looked at by a proper doctor. Besides, I spoke to the barkeep earlier. He told me we either need to pay for the extra people, or get them doing jobs around the waystation too… He isn’t happy about the current arrangement.”

Spade grimaced. Jared suspected the animosity between her and the barkeep had not helped matters. “There’s no way to get to Flats Lagoon without going through gutter territory,” she said. “Our friends aren’t going to be strong enough to fight. It’s a dangerous journey for all of us.”

“We’ve got Beanhop,” Jared pointed out. “A few good shots and the gutters won’t even reach us.”

“That doesn’t solve the problem of getting swarmed. Beanhop can’t aim in every direction at once, and Yari—” A rosiness blossomed in her cheeks, just for a moment. “Don’t take that the wrong way, imperial. You’re great with a polearm. But you won’t be able to kill gutters like you killed the spiders.”

“I’m aware of that,” Yari said levelly. “I have fought gutters before, you know.”

Ewin’s gazed was now firmly on Spade. “I’m aware this is going to be risky. We’ll make sure we keep a formation that protects the most vulnerable people in the group. And we’ll need to consider the different stages of the journey.”

“Stages?” Thalen said.

Ewin pointed to a spot on the map. “The first stage is easy enough. It ends here, at the Tech Hunter waystation in the Border Zone. We’ll get a good night’s sleep in the flophouse, and the next day we’ll make for the bar the smugglers use. On the third day we’ll head south to avoid Venge and sweep around to Flats Lagoon. We should be able to do that in a single day.”

“Wouldn’t going via that settled nomad village be faster?” Jared said, squinting at the map.

“I’ve been there before,” Ewin said. “No flophouse. We’d have to camp, and the gutters would almost certainly smell us in the dark. Besides, it’s shorter but it’s not faster. The terrain to the north is quicker to navigate.”

“And what do you think of our chances?” Spade challenged. “Of everyone getting to Flats alive by the end of it?”

Ewin shot her a hard look. “Our chances will be better if we work as a team and trust in each other’s skills. We’ll give it another day to prepare, and to work out any holes in the plan. When we do leave, if we can do it without drifting off and doing our own things” — his piercing gaze moved to Thalen — “that would be a good start.”

“What does Mik think of this?” Jared said.

“All for it. She’s getting a little stir-crazy.” Ewin chuckled. To the twins he said, “You two look tired. Get as much sleep as you can. And if you could discuss this with your group in the morning and feed any objections back to me, that would be useful.”

Jared glanced at Thalen. In the gloom, it was almost possible to overlook the silver hair and the scars. For just a second he was someone different, a slightly older Scorchlander with a chin-beard and unusually red hair… “Got it.”

“And _you_ two,” Ewin said to Yari and Thalen as the twins turned to leave, “need to be more careful and think of the rest of the team. I realise I’m not your mother, Thalen, but you’re going to get your brother killed if you keep this up.”

“Sorry.”

The _accent…_ Jared followed Spade up the stairs to the roof, trying not to think about it too much. Below them, the voices in the bar had already turned to other matters. He suspected it would be a while before Beanhop and the flatskins went to bed.

“You know,” he said to Spade, “I never thought I’d see the day you complimented a flatskin’s fighting skills.”

Spade shook her head, as if his amusement was unwarranted. “Polearms are so… I dunno, they’re definitely not Shek weapons. But credit where it’s due, it’s very impressive.”

“Now _that’s_ praise.”

“I don’t know why you think I’m incapable of—” She stopped, staring across the roof. “Who’s that?”

Jared followed Spade’s line of sight. Over on the edge of the roof, barely illuminated by the rooftop lighting, was a lonely silhouette. Recognising the shaved-down horns and the way she was sitting, he gave his sister a nudge. “You go to bed. I’ll make sure Rei’s OK.”

“Shouldn’t Kat do that?”

Jared could just make out the small sleeping form on the bed next to Lekko. There was no sound of distress coming from Kat, just peaceful slumber. “I don’t want to wake her. I’ll let her sleep.”

“OK. If you’re sure,” Spade said, still a little doubtfully, and went to bed. Jared crossed the roof, trying to strike a balance between making sure Rei was alerted to his presence and not disturbing the others, and sat on the edge of the roof beside the lonely figure.

“Rei, it’s Jared. Are you OK?”

“Yeah.”

It didn’t take a genius to know she was lying. Her shoulders were hunched, her heels dug into the side of the wall. Her whole body was completely rigid, and Jared suspected she was freezing too. “I can get you a blanket if you like,” he said.

“It’s fine.”

He wondered how much to press it. A week of food and rest — carefully monitored by Ewin — had helped her physical state a little, but emotionally she was like a flower that someone had crushed. He pulled the blanket off his own bed and came back, handing it to her. “Here. Take it. I don’t want to see you shivering.”

Rei’s movements were slow as she accepted to the blanket, but at least she was moving of her own accord now. “Why are you awake?” she said.

“Spade and I were, uh…” He paused for a second. “We were talking downstairs. Ewin says we’ll probably be setting off soon.”

“Oh.” Her voice was lifeless, with no real curiosity in it. “OK.”

“Have you eaten recently?”

“Yeah.”

Jared wished there was something motivational he could say, but his mind was drawing blanks. “I just wanted you to know we’ll make sure you stay safe. On the way to Flats Lagoon.”

“I don’t want to go to Flats Lagoon.”

“Because of World’s End, or the journey itself?” He thought he saw Rei shrug a little in the darkness, and hesitated. “Look, I realise maybe you’re feeling like you don’t deserve to go there. But you do, you really do. Everything you’ve done, it’s been with the best of intentions for the group as a whole, and if it hadn’t been for you we’d have been rotting in that damn slave camp.” He realised his voice was getting a little heated. “If anyone deserves a break and a safe place to live, Rei, it’s you.”

Rei was still shaking even with the blanket to keep her warm. It wasn’t until she let out a little sob that Jared realised she was crying. “People are dead, Jared. People are _dead.”_

“And that’s nobody’s fault except the United Cities. Maybe the cannibals too. But Rei, we knew the risks when we followed you. We’ve always known the risks. And we’ve taken those risks because freedom is worth it.”

“But they don’t know, the Tech Hunters don’t know—”

“Shh,” Jared said quickly; he hadn’t been paying enough attention to know who was asleep or else safely downstairs. “Don’t worry about that now. _We_ know. And something tells me we’ll all be sticking together even after this is over, yeah?”

“You think?”

“Course I think that. We all get along better than we realise, and this kind of shit makes people closer.”

“Oh. I thought you might be going back to the Tech Hunters. Because they’re…”

“Because they’re here?”

She drew into the blanket. “I saw you with Mik, you know.”

There was no point in denying it. “Yeah.”

“She’s your girlfriend.”

“No, not exactly. We sort of got together briefly, right before Spade and I left the Tech Hunters. It was all a bit of a mess.” There had been far too much baggage, especially on his side, for things to have ever worked out. “We’ve always been friends, but… we don’t really have anything between us. Not like that, not anymore. If we ever did.” He exhaled slowly, hating the way he sounded. “I should have said. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not obliged to tell me that stuff,” she said faintly. “It’s not like you and me are together.”

“No, but… don’t we want to be?”

“I’d like that. I just don’t see how I could make you happy.” Her eyes were sad. “I wish I could.”

If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t at all sure he could do the same for Rei. It was far too easy to fuck things up, even under more normal circumstances. “I guess we’ll just keep taking it one step at a time. Like Ewin’s plan to get us all through Flats Lagoon.”

“Flats Lagoon…” She turned away, staring out across the Stenn. “It feels like such a long way away.”

“But we’ll get there. You trust the Tech Hunters, right?”

Rei did not reply, nor visibly react.

“Those two freelancers, they took out the spider nest. Barely got a scratch on ’em. We’re in capable hands. And from past experience, I know Ewin and Beanhop are good at what they do…” He trailed off, realising there was something off about Rei’s silence. “Rei?”

Still nothing. Jared leaned forward, peering into her face. The various waystation lights were reflected in her eyes, but her gaze was entirely empty. Jared swore to himself and grabbed her shoulder, ready to counterbalance her if she started leaning off the roof. She didn’t even flinch at his touch. “Hey, Rei. Rei.”

He wasn’t sure how long it lasted, maybe twenty seconds, but then he felt her stir. She turned her face to his, her eyes widening, and Jared realised that touching her without invitation had been a mistake. He quickly lifted his hand off her shoulder. “Sorry,” he said.

“Why did you…” But she pieced it together quickly enough. Taking in a shaky breath, she scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I hate this,” she whispered almost to herself. “I _hate_ it.”

“There’ll be people in Flats Lagoon who can help,” Jared said. He wasn’t lying; lying would imply he knew for sure it wasn’t true. “Flats Lagoon has doctors.”

“What could a doctor even do?”

Jared had no answer to that, truth or otherwise. Rei seemed to pick up on it, because she was tightly gripping the edge of the roof. She didn’t even readjust the blanket when it slipped off her shoulder; Jared had to grab it before it could fall. “Stay here for a bit,” she said quietly.

“I will,” he promised.

In the end, they sat together for most of the night, staring silently at the stars.


	7. Robotics

The days that followed Marisa’s initial recovery were strange ones. Strange because, despite his knowledge that the fever had almost claimed her, Lord Aramid seemed to be doing his best to keep her busy rather than allowing her to rest. In many ways, Marisa welcomed it; regaining her strength little by little was a far more rewarding pursuit than lazing around in bored frustration. But in other ways she hated the sudden rush of busyness, of trying to do things she would never have managed before the fever hit.

She’d been taught things and tested on them. She’d played more of the strange game Lord Aramid had brought back from the markets. She’d even practised her swordwork techniques as best she could while sitting down. It was almost as though Lord Aramid had decided she’d rested enough in the time she’d been ill, and was now determined to push her to the limits of what she was capable of — regardless of his previous comments about healing taking energy.

“I’m aware it’s tiring,” he said to her one evening, seeing her slump over her food. “Unfortunately we don’t have the luxury of time. Tengu will be planning his next move and we must be ready. More bread?”

Marisa accepted the plate he was offering her. No matter how much she ate, it never seemed to be enough to offset the fatigue. “My lord, what do you think the emperor will expect us to do? I mean, he can’t send us to the Shield anymore…”

“My suspicion is he’ll want us to stay here in Heft for now, but there’s no guarantee of it. If Lady Emika was behind Tengu’s decision to send us to the Shield, and her little ploy has now failed, she may try another tactic to get rid of us. Be ready.” He frowned thoughtfully at Marisa. “I believe it’s time to try replacing that bugman leg Lady Sanda gave you.”

“But my lord, the wound was infected…” Marisa trailed off, suddenly very aware that she was questioning Lord Aramid’s judgement. “Yes, my lord.”

“Do you think your leg has healed sufficiently?”

Marisa touched the stump unthinkingly. She hadn’t dared give it much consideration, all too afraid of getting her hopes up, but it was looking far better these days. Something stirred unbidden in the back of her mind, a thought that fled in terror before she could even remember what it was. Her pulse began to race. “I think maybe it has, my lord.”

“It’s incredible, the work that good medicine can do.” He smiled. “How is the pain, compared with how it was when you first came to me?”

“Much better, my lord.”

“Are you sleeping better?”

Marisa nodded.

“That settles it then. I’ll summon a robotics expert in the morning.”

The robotics expert was, perhaps unsurprisingly, a Skeleton. Marisa, who’d met very few Skeletons in her life, found herself staring at him as he measured her height and the width of the stump. He was old enough to have seen empires rise and crumble, but his metal body was as smooth and lustrous as it had been when it was new. Marisa wondered if a being made of flesh was as much of a curiosity to the Skeleton as a being made of metal was to her.

She glanced over at Lord Aramid, struck by a sudden thought. Lord Aramid was standing at the side of the room out of the Skeleton’s line of sight, his eyes narrowed and his arms folded. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the technician since he’d first entered the noble-house. It was only when the Skeleton had gathered his tools together and left that Lord Aramid twitched and let out an audible sigh of relief. “Well, I’m glad that’s over.”

“I’m surprised you invited him here, my lord.” Marisa sat back down on the stool. Standing for such a length of time had left her with horrible aches everywhere. “Him being a Skeleton and everything…”

“I wasn’t about to drag you halfway through Heft to meet him,” Lord Aramid replied. Marisa, oddly flattered, looked down to hide a smile. “Unfortunately, the world is full of necessary evils and Erix knows more about mechanics than anyone else in the capital.”

“You know, my lord…” She rubbed at the stump of her leg, more out of habit than anything else. “You seem far more tolerant of robots than I’d expect from an Okranite.”

“Like I’ve said, Marisa, the world is full of necessary evils.” He picked up a gearwheel that the technician had left behind and frowned down at it. “I don’t believe Narko’s influence will poison you purely for possessing a Skeleton limb.”

“I wouldn’t know either way, my lord. I’m not an Okranite myself.”

“But you believe in Okran?” he checked.

“I’ve never really thought about it, my lord. I suppose if I was pushed for an answer, yes.”

Lord Aramid dropped the gearwheel on the dining-room table. “It amuses me how the common people of the empire believe in the god of their enemies and yet give him no thought in their day-to-day lives. If you believe Okran exists, and is as powerful as the Holy Nation believes him to be… why wouldn’t you worship him?”

There were Okran-worshippers in the United Cities — the southern territories were full of them — but up in the north they were a minority. “That’s for the Holy Nation, my lord.”

“Interesting. Don’t you people worry Okran will favour your enemies because they acknowledge him?”

Marisa shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t know.”

“If it weren’t for my concern that Tengu might very soon make religious worship illegal, I’d have encouraged you to pray.” His jaw tightened a little. “However little attention you pay Okran, Marisa, I suspect he is looking after you. You were sick and he healed you. I have much to thank him for. Now, would you care for some sake?”

To her surprise, Marisa found herself nodding; anything to move the conversation on from such topics. They sat with cups of sake, and the matter of religion turned to that of the upcoming new year celebrations.

“I imagine it’ll be something of a party,” Lord Aramid said. “It may be the perfect opportunity for you to make a few connections of your own.”

“I hadn’t even realised it was so close to the end of the year, my lord.” With everything that had happened in the past few months, the calendar had been far from Marisa’s mind. She’d never kept good track of it unless she’d needed to.

“Time truly does fly, but the month of the Phoenix is almost upon us. Strength and renewal… and danger arising from difficult times.” He frowned and sipped his sake. “Let’s just hope all this favours the United Cities.”

“You said you thought the empire would win this war, my lord,” Marisa ventured. “You told me it was useful to side with the victor.”

“Indeed I did.” He sighed, a sigh which indicated it had been folly on his part. Marisa lowered her cup to the table, watching him with a sudden sense of dread. _If he thinks the tides have changed…_ “We underestimated the strength and fury of the assault that came out of the river-lands and slaughtered our young men and women. And…” He hesitated. “Marisa, what I’m about to tell you might be seen as treason by certain circles. Don’t repeat it.”

“I won’t, my lord.”

“Judging by what I have seen in the palace this last year or so, the strength of the United Cities leadership is… not like the strength of the Holy Nation. The Holy Nation may be smaller in number, they may have fewer soldiers and poorer weapons, but they have a strong and seamless system of governance. The Okranites believe the Phoenix to be their saviour, the Inquisitors to be servants of Okran. They have a strong natural barrier to the east, since no army can cross the Deadlands. There is a stability in their leadership that the United Cities entirely lacks… the empire is full of deceit, of corruption, of political ploys and manipulation. Our soldiers are hungrier, we have rebels and Reavers attacking from all directions, we have far too much land and not nearly enough people to defend it.”

His cup of sake was not yet empty. Marisa watched as he topped it up from the gourd.

“If the Holy Nation uses their manpower to patrol their vulnerable points, there’s little the United Cities can do to retaliate… and one little push from their side might be enough to tip the empire into civil war. To be frank with you, Marisa, a full civil war has been a long time in the making. This isn’t such an easy fight as it first appeared.”

Marisa chewed the corner of her lip. “But my lord, the empire is a great—”

“Of course you think that,” he interrupted. “You’ve been raised to trust in its strength.”

“But didn’t you believe it too, my lord? What you told me—”

“I believed it, yes. But recent events have left the nobility floundering and the true extent of this instability is plain to see… A question for you, Marisa. Do you know much about what happened to Bast?”

“It happened before I was born, my lord.”

“But as a young soldier growing up in the north, you’d have been taught about it, correct? In the barracks?”

“I was taught about it,” she said carefully; her history was rustier than she liked to admit. “The Holy Nation led a surprise attack, destroyed all the farms, burned the noble who ruled the city…” It had led to the Red Rebellion… or had that preceded it? Marisa decided not to bring it up. Lord Aramid would probably know, and looking ignorant in front of Lord Aramid was something she was keen to avoid…

“You’re quite right,” he said, to her relief. “They took the young and healthy, marched them back to the Holy Nation as slaves and prisoners. Now the region crawls with rebels and Okranite soldiers and, if rumours are to be believed, cannibals too. Bast is a stark example of what the Holy Nation is capable of. I must admit, if we don’t destroy each other… the Holy Nation might be able to destroy us. The northern cities, at least. I don’t doubt the Okranites will want to take vengeance for the Shield.”

“I see,” Marisa said quietly.

“We must be vigilant, Marisa.”

“My lord,” she said before she could change her mind, “I have a question for _you.”_

He smiled a little at that — she suspected he enjoyed her difficult questions. “What is your question, Marisa?”

It had been burning away ever since they’d started discussing the empire and the destruction of Bast. Marisa took a deep breath and went for it. “Do you still believe the Tech Hunters are nothing to worry about?”

“Let’s hope so,” Lord Aramid said. “The last thing we need is more rebels. Their two surviving cities are a little close to the empire for my liking.”

“Black Scratch and…”

“Flats Lagoon. It lies between Brink and Catun, though it’s not nearly so close to any imperial city as Black Scratch. I do hope the Tech Hunters don’t make the necessary connections between those two massacres… there being a common factor in both cases…”

“A common factor?”

“Eyegore.”

Marisa blinked. “Eyegore was responsible for Black Scratch? But… everyone knows the killer was never caught…”

“A monster of a killer, ruthless enough to put the elderly and children to the sword… Why do you think the bounty posters are so vague, despite there being multiple eyewitnesses? True, it was before Tengu managed to collar him and bring him under control, but that doesn’t change the truth of it. Eyegore _is_ the Butcher of Black Scratch, Marisa.”

“But the Tech Hunters don’t know that?”

“Not yet, as far as I can tell.” He pinched the space between his eyebrows. “It may be wise to keep an eye on the Tech Hunters, but do nothing more to disturb the gutter nest… Well, whatever the next step in this war may be, we should find out soon enough. I expect there will be another council in the next day or two… Perhaps you should go and rest. You’ve had quite the morning, and as important as it is that you regain your strength, I think you’ve deserved a little down-time. Let me know if I can get you anything.

“Thank you, my lord.” Marisa took her crutches, her head still spinning at the revelation, and started to make her way towards her room.

“One more thing, Marisa.”

Marisa stopped, but did not turn around. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to manoeuvre, nor to look him in the face. “Yes, my lord?”

“Keep an eye on Cassie.”

“My lord?”

Lord Aramid did not respond. Marisa gulped and, carefully positioning her body weight, continued the long and arduous task of getting somewhere she could properly rest. There was no forgetting that the frontlines and Tengu’s palace weren’t the only places in the empire that were dangerous.

* * *

The boundary between desert and swamp was more distinct than Kat remembered. As she followed Ewin’s lead, the straps of her backpack digging against her shoulder blades, she realised just _how_ different it was. The Swamp itself was an attack on the senses, a pungent and rotting stench. That stench outdid even the breezes that had wafted in from Vain, back when they’d been heading south to Admag. It wasn’t a smell Kat could have called pleasant, and yet it had that aching memory of home to it…

She was so busy thinking about Shark that she didn’t notice she’d slowed down, and Pia walked straight into her back. She yelped as a boot trod on the back of her bare, still-painful heel.

“Sorry, Kat!”

They might have been treading the grey edge of the desert, but the air here had all the dense humidity of the Swamp. Kat’s lungs felt half full of moisture. She had never realised how hard it was to breathe in the Swamp but, having been away for a time and returned again, it was quickly becoming apparent how _thick_ that air was. She lifted a hand to her head and felt beads of moisture sitting on top of the stubble.

Spade hadn’t spoken much since they’d set off from the waystation that morning, but Kat could tell just from her gait that she was jittery. “You don’t think we’re a little _too_ close to the Swamp, do you?”

“Spade has a point.” Ewin gestured to the gently sloping desert on their left. “We don’t have good visibility to the east. Let’s try and get some more distance.”

In spite of the obvious discomforts, Kat was a little sorry to leave the Swamp behind. They moved to slightly higher ground with clearer visibility on both sides and, once they were above the dense, sunken air, breathing became easier. She coughed to readjust her lungs, but they still seemed to rattle slightly. The feeling wore off as they got moving.

“Just like the Floodlands,” Spade said, plucking at the neckline of her damp shirt. “You _lived_ there?”

“Yeah. It’s not so bad when you grow up with it.” Kat wondered how long she’d been away. It had to be getting on for ten months now. “Going back, on the other hand…”

“I’ve been to the Swamp a few times. Doesn’t matter how often you do it, it never gets easier. Can’t imagine living there.” Spade shuddered. “And the _spiders…”_

“Oh. Yeah. Lot of people die to those. Getting their guts sucked out…”

“OK, OK. I don’t need to know.”

The morning was a long one, but thankfully uneventful. In the afternoon they forded a river and trod damply up the steep embankment to higher ground. They were well out of the Stenn at this point but the terrain was similar; the hard, rocky hills were strewn with pale sand and chunks of stone that made the path difficult to navigate barefoot. The worst of Kat’s blisters had not quite healed, and every step seemed to aggravate them. Lekko, however, was moving effortlessly, her bare toes finding the least painful route with the sure-footed ease of a goat.

Behind Kat, walking with Pia and Jared, Rei was making a brave effort of walking unaided. She was stronger now, at least physically speaking — formerly, she’d been weak from hunger rather than anything else — but the absences were still a concern, and it had become apparent they needed to keep an eye on her while they were travelling.

“How far is it now?” said Pia. She hadn’t said as much, but Kat could tell her boots were pinching. If Kat hadn’t been preoccupied with her own lack of footwear, she might have felt sorrier for Pia — but, with the cuts reopening on her feet, the self-pity was largely reserved for herself.

“A little more walking yet,” Ewin said, consulting the map, “but we’re most of the way there. We should reach it by sunset.”

“Oh, OK.”

Lekko extended her arm towards the sun and squinted at her fingers. “That means less than an hour, Pia. The sun should be setting in about half that.”

Pia immediately brightened. “So not long at all. How do you know how long it is until the sun goes down?”

Lekko fell back to walk with Pia, and the next couple of minutes were spent showing her how to calculate the time left until sunset. Kat chuckled to herself, then quickly stopped. However miserable Pia might have been finding the journey, all seemed to have been forgotten in the face of someone simply paying attention to her.

“You’ve been to Shem, right?” she asked Spade, trying to distract herself from her own guilt.

“Yeah. Can’t really get to Flats without passing through, not unless you want to go via the Swamp and the Burning Forest and all that.”

“How dangerous _is_ Shem? Are there a lot of beak things?”

Spade paused, considering. “I’d say a fair few. We’ll almost certainly come up against them. And they tend to hunt in packs, so… I’d be surprised if we only encountered one on its own. We might end up fighting a few groups of them.”

“A _few_ groups?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much. We can’t outrun them, but we have good fighters on our team. Beanhop and Yari and that lot.” She nodded at Ewin, who was walking in front with Mik. “We’re in with a decent chance.”

_A decent chance_ didn’t sound very reassuring to Kat, nor did any of the rest of what Spade had just told her. “I heard they eat their prey alive.”

“Yeah, they’ll eat most things, alive or not. You’ve never seen one in the flesh before?”

“No.”

“Hah, consider yourself lucky.”

“Not lucky for long.” Kat suppressed a shiver. “We’re going to be meeting them soon enough.”

“True.” To Kat’s surprise, Spade grinned. When she did, the family resemblance to Jared was uncanny. “Hey, don’t sweat it, swamp-lander. We’ll be fine.”

“I hope you’re right.” Kat glanced back at Mik. With the exception of a loose scarf draped around her neck to help protect her shoulders from sunburn, she was shirtless, the bandages acting as the main preserver of her modesty. She had to still be in pain, but she’d put on a brave face. _“She_ wasn’t.”

“Yeah well, she was drunk and in a gutter nest. That doesn’t end well.”

Ewin had been a little off with his calculations, and it was dusk by the time they arrived at the next waystation over. The Border Zone waystation was built on the topmost part of a knobbly hill, with steep drops on all sides but one. The entrance was the only section that was walled.

_“Don’t_ go wandering in the dark,” Ewin cautioned. “Walk off the cliff and it’s a painful way to reach the bottom.”

“I know, I know,” Kat heard Thalen mutter. “Stop looking at me like that, Yari.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“You are! I _saw_ that—”

Kat couldn’t see how high the cliffs were, but she wasn’t about to take any risks. She kept close to Ewin’s lantern as they passed through the gate and entered the flophouse. This place seemed a little livelier than the silent, empty outpost of the Stenn. People were drinking and swapping stories and, from the sounds of their laughter, having a good time. It wasn’t just Tech Hunters either; Kat could see a few people she took to be simple wanderers, dressed in old ragged clothes and talking quietly amongst themselves. The barkeep was doing good trade, and the guards looked far less bored than they’d done in the empty waystation.

“It’s busy in here,” Pia said.

“Just the way of things,” Ewin replied. “Places like this, they sometimes see no custom for weeks… then an expedition or two decides to drop by for rest and supplies, and before you know it, the place is heaving.” He nodded at the barkeep, who’d noticed their presence and had been watching them since they’d stepped through the door. “Might be worth finding out if anyone’s going to Flats Lagoon.”

“Do you recognise any of these people?” Kat said to Spade, as Ewin went off to socialise with the patrons.

“Huh? No, not really. There are a lot of Tech Hunters… come on, let’s find seats.”

The rest of the group had already settled down at two tables. Kat noticed there was still a split going on, with former slaves at one table and Tech Hunters and mercenaries at the other, but once they’d all had a chance to eat, the tables merged. Kat found herself sitting with the two mercenary brothers and the twins.

“So you’re leaving us at Flats,” Spade said to the brothers.

“Maybe,” Yari said. “Or maybe we’ll hang around a bit. Difficult to know how World’s End will affect things.”

Kat looked around the bar, at the grinning faces of the patrons. She lowered her voice, even though the other Tech Hunters were making sufficient noise to drown out normal conversation. “Do you think these people know?”

“Probably,” Thalen replied. “It was what, a month ago now? News travels. The only reason we didn’t hear about it was coz we were holed up in a waystation that wasn’t seeing many travellers.”

“Must have been lonely, not having that contact with the outside world.”

“It’s not so bad,” Yari said. “I think we all needed the peace and quiet.”

Thalen rolled his good eye. “Yeah, but you hate socialising.”

“I don’t hate it,” Yari said quickly.

“Sitting there doing your _praying_ and _whittling_ …”

“You whittle?” Spade said.

Yari blushed and passed something across the table. “I tried to make a flute, but it turned into more of a whistle.”

Spade turned the lump of wood from side to side, scratching at a splinter with her fingernail. “Hey, this is pretty good.”

Jared was smirking. “You’d better give the man back his whistle, Spade.”

“All right, all right. Also, shut up.” She handed it back to Yari. “Well, that somewhat redeems you for being an Okran-worshipper.”

“Oh, leave him be,” Jared said, stretching out his legs. “At least he’s not from the Holy Nation… Anyone want to play cards?”

Kat groaned, remembering the last time. Jared shot her a wounded look and started shuffling his deck. “Oh, all right,” she muttered. “I’ll play.”

“We could play Lam,” Thalen suggested.

“I don’t know that one,” Jared said.

“Me and Yari can teach you.”

As the two brothers tried to explain the rules of Lam, Kat risked a glance at Thalen. He’d brushed his hair away from his face, giving her a full view of his scars. As she stared without trying to stare, wondering how he might have gotten them, she realised she wasn’t the only one; Jared was watching him too, and with far more than just interest to learn the rules of Lam. To Kat’s relief, when Thalen finally noticed the eyes on him, it was Jared’s that he noticed. “What’s up?”

Either Jared was far more shameless than Kat or he hadn’t been staring for the same reason, because there was no blush or flustered apology. “Nothing.”

“Is my brother being rude?” Spade aimed a kick at him but hit Kat instead. Kat yelped in pain and surprise, nearly tipping her stool. She grabbed the table as a means of counterbalance, causing several people’s drinks to slosh. Thalen and Yari just sat and stared at them all like they’d collectively lost their minds.

“I’m not trying to be rude,” Jared said a little defensively. To Thalen he said, “You just remind me of someone, that’s all.”

“Huh, don’t get _that_ often. Not many people with a face like mine.” At this Thalen turned towards Kat and grinned at her. Kat, acutely aware this was the second time he’d caught her staring, wondered if it was better to apologise or simply pretend she hadn’t been. “Anyway, if you win the first three tricks you can sweep the pool—”

“You five,” Ewin said, and Kat jumped. “Don’t forget it’s an early start tomorrow. You’ll want to be well rested for it.”

“Ah, balls.” Jared was already gathering up the cards. As Ewin left he muttered, “He always does that. Can’t announce himself…”

“Well, guess we should get a few hours.” Thalen readjusted his tricorn. “Yari?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Yari said, shooting Jared one last puzzled look.

“Way to make things awkward, Jar,” Spade said under her breath, when the mercenaries had gone.

“You don’t think he looks like Koel?”

“Huh?” Spade wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I mean… he’s a Scorchlander.”

“It’s not just the…” Jared trailed off, looking a little downcast. “Never mind.”

_“I_ think he does,” Pia said as she passed their table to the stairs. “They got the same voice. The Clownsteady voice… I bet that’s it.”

Kat, who had no idea what they were talking about, got the sudden sense she was eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation. She wanted to ask, but her instincts suggested that was probably a bad idea. Instead she just shrugged. “Ewin’s got a point. If we’re going to be up as soon as it’s light, we should go to bed now.”

Spade sighed and stood up. “Gotta be well rested for Shem, right?”

“Yeah.” Kat tried to smile but the smile felt false. The nagging fear that they would not survive to see the next evening was becoming almost impossible to ignore.


	8. Scribe

Although the palace had been oddly enticing in its danger, the council chambers beneath the throne room were one place Marisa would have been quite happy to never see again.

If she’d thought she might have blended in better among military commanders than she had nobility, she’d been wrong. The enormous, gilded wooden table seemed to swallow her as she sat at it and, as the other members of the assembly filed in and took their seats, she was left with a lingering sense of being utterly out of place.

Lord Aramid was sitting beside Marisa. He leaned over, his whisper tickling her ear. “It would seem our dear emperor isn’t here yet. Be sure to stand when he comes in.”

Marisa nodded, keeping her back straight and her face neutral. The new leg wasn’t ready yet, and Lord Aramid had returned her old one for the sake of the council, but getting used to it again had proven a challenge. She hoped it would allow her to stand up without making a fool of both herself and Lord Aramid.

“Are you confident in what you’re doing?” Lord Aramid said.

“I – I think so, my lord.”

“That doesn’t sound very confident.”

Marisa looked down at the neat pile of paper sitting before her, the little inkpot on its mat, the scribe’s pen with its nib that was far too sharp for comfort. She’d never had to take notes before. Indeed, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d written anything. _If I can do everything right this evening, it’ll be an achievement._ “I understand what I’m being asked to do, my lord.”

It wasn’t quite the answer to his question, but Lord Aramid seemed satisfied enough. “Good. Now, I think we—”

A rustling sounded all around the great wooden table as the assembly rose in unison. Even though Marisa had been anticipating the sudden upsurge of movement, she was still a little delayed as she struggled with her prosthesis. Emperor Tengu swept into the room, followed closely by a man she vaguely recognised, and settled himself into his seat.

“We’re here for a reason, so I’ll do away with the pretty words at how nice it is to see you all here. I hope you don’t mind.” The tone of Tengu’s voice rather implied that if anyone minded, they’d be looking down the wrong end of a crossbow. “Well, go on Koin, introductions. Introduce me.”

Of course it was Koin. Marisa remembered him as the man who’d welcomed her and Lady Sanda to the previous assembly.

“Honoured guests,” Koin said a little wearily, “it is my pleasure to introduce Emperor Tengu, ruler of the United Cities.”

“Is that it? No mention of my virility, my fashion sense, my many achievements? I really do need to pay you more, Koin.”

“My apologies, your highness. Shall I start over?”

Tengu let out a choking noise. It took Marisa a few startled seconds to realise he was laughing. The rest of the assembly joined in a little hesitantly and, as Tengu’s laughter increased in volume, so did the uncomfortable laughter rippling around the table. Marisa guessed Koin was used to it, but it didn’t stop her feeling sorry for the man.

“All right, enough!” Tengu thumped the table. “Move on. Introduce the others.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Most of the introductions flew past Marisa, but she did notice the majority of the assembly — with the clear exception of Lord Ohta and Lady Emika — were captains and generals of one sort or another. A few were introduced as advisors. It was not until the name Eyegore was mentioned that she did a double take. She wanted to tear her eyes away from the fierce-looking soldier drone, terrifying as he was, but the fear response caused her to freeze. _The Butcher of Black Scratch._ Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lord Ohta and Lady Emika draw just a little closer together.

“Lord Aramid of the western sands.” Marisa jumped. She must have missed a number of introductions in the time she’d been staring. “And Marisa of Bark, who is acting as a scribe to Lord Aramid.”

Marisa had to suppress the urge to wipe her hands on her tunic. Fewer people were staring at her than in the previous assembly, but she could feel Lady Emika’s piercing gaze. _And now you’re a scribe? It’s almost as if Aramid is trying to_ make _you fit somewhere._

“Let’s move on with this meeting,” Tengu said.

Marisa readied her men. She hoped she wasn’t about to spill any ink on the protective mat, or indeed on the beautiful table. As the council got started, she began to fret about the illegibility of her handwriting, or else accidentally smearing the ink across the page. Already she could see a few mysterious spots of black ink on her fingers.

“… the question is what went wrong at the Shield,” someone was saying. “We should have been able to defend against the Okranites. The Shield wasn’t an easy capture in the first place, and yet we were outmatched against some paladins with shoddy swords…”

“That’s a question I can answer,” someone else said. “Your highness, we have established that the Okranites launched an assault from both directions, just as we did to them. They must have marched from Okran’s Valley on the Skimsands side.”

“And this happened with no prewarning. How was this possible? There should have been patrols in the Skimsands. Commander Bannock, I thought you were responsible for those patrols.”

“My lord – your highness,” Bannock stammered, “an army is no match for a twelve-man patrol—”

“Why didn’t they report what they saw? Armies don’t bury themselves in the sand like skimmers.”

“My lord, I accept perhaps there was a failing on the part of—”

“There must have been, because if an army can cross miles of desert and escape notice from not one, but _all_ roaming patrols, how can the people of the northern cities feel safe?”

Marisa tried not to let her wince show. She had the sudden, nasty suspicion that things would not end well for Commander Bannock.

“The question of course is how to remedy this…”

And so the council went on, as battle-plans and tactics were discussed. Marisa, whose hand was cramping with all the notes she was taking, only paid attention subconsciously. It wasn’t until she stared back at her own page of scrawl that she realised just how much she’d been taking in. She knew something of tactics, as it had been part of her schooling in the barracks, but it had never been her strongest point; she wasn’t even sure how to spell half the words that were being thrown around. By the time the council had come to a close she was almost out of paper, and it was with some relief that she rested her pen back in its wooden holder.

“Refreshments can be found upstairs,” Koin informed the assembly as they stood up to leave.

“I’m sure bloodrum and sand berry cake will be the centrepiece,” Lord Aramid murmured to Marisa. “I wouldn’t touch either, if I were you.”

“No, my lord.”

Marisa turned back to her notes, wondering if the ink on the last page was dry yet. As she was packing her things away a shadow fell over her, and a hand snatched up the pages she’d so painstakingly put together. She started to protest but quickly clamped her lips together; unless a slave had been sent downstairs to clean up, everyone in the room outranked her. As she looked up to see who had stolen her notes, she was thankful for her self-restraint. The emperor himself was standing not four feet from her, casually flicking through her scribblings like he was reading the next edition of _United Weekly._ “Your highness,” she stammered.

“Aramid’s scribe now, hmm? Interesting, interesting.” He passed the notes to Koin, who was waiting nearby. Marisa glanced around for Lord Aramid, but he’d been swallowed up in the exodus. “Last I saw of you, you were Lady Sanda’s guard…”

“That’s correct, your highness,” Marisa said carefully, not at all sure his musings invited a response.

“And he has you taking notes? You don’t, ah, have the handwriting of a scribe.”

“No, your highness.” Marisa’s scalp was prickling. It took all her self-control to not rub at her head.

“Still, a commoner with a job is a commoner with cats, eh!” He let out a belly laugh that seemed to shake the sides of the chamber. Marisa smiled politely. “It would seem you’re a lucky charm as far as your master is concerned.”

“Yes, your highness,” Marisa said, wondering where Tengu was taking this.

“Why yes, if it hadn’t been for you falling ill at the opportune moment, you might have been lost along with the Shield.” Tengu smiled. Up close, his teeth were slightly stained. “Quite fortuitous.”

Marisa gulped. Something in Tengu’s manner gave her shivers, and it wasn’t just the knowledge he could have her imprisoned with a word. To her relief, however, Koin took that moment to return the notes to Tengu. “These are impressively thorough, your highness,” he said. “Everything as they should be.”

“It would seem you’re a natural secretary.” Tengu handed the papers to Marisa. She took them back with hands that trembled slightly. “Perhaps your talents are wasted taking notes for Aramid. There would be far greater opportunities for such scribe-work at the palace.”

“Perhaps so, your highness.”

“Hmm… a shame… still, I’m sure your master is missing you. You’re excused. And of course, you can help yourself to the refreshments just like everyone else.” His eyes glinted a little behind his dark glasses. “Although perhaps, the bloodrum and sand berry cake would be unsuitable for your common palate.”

Marisa realised she was sweating. “Yes, your highness. Thank you, your highness.”

Aside from Tengu, Koin and a few palace guards, there was no one at all in the council chamber. If Marisa had been able to scurry, she would have scurried; as it was, she forced herself to take the ramp slowly, fearful that the economy limb might cause her to trip. When she reached the top of the ramp she took a long, deep breath and pushed back the curtain so she could re-join Lord Aramid.

“Marisa, there you are.” Lord Aramid had evidently been looking for her in the crowd. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Bugman face,” he said, but he frowned. “We’ll discuss it later. Have you got the notes?”

“They’re here.” Marisa tried to hand them over, but he shook his head.

“You’re the scribe. Keep hold of them until we get home.”

Marisa glanced around the room. What had been a spaced-out gathering downstairs had turned into a tight and densely packed throng that pressed against the sides of the reception area. Much to her fear and dismay, she noticed she was only a few people away from Eyegore. “They sent _him_ to World’s End?” she whispered to Lord Aramid.

“Ah, yes. I’m rather surprised Tengu brought him here at all, given his dislike of conversation… not to mention his tendency towards violence. He’s a weapon, not something to dress up and put in a cushioned seat.”

Marisa shuddered. She’d heard enough stories about Eyegore from Lady Sanda’s other guards to know Lord Aramid spoke truth.

All in all, standing in the crowd was not a very comfortable experience. Marisa was secretly relieved when Lord Aramid suggested they take their leave. They left the palace with gladness, treading through the pale sands of Heft on their return to the noble-house.

“How is the walking?” said Lord Aramid.

“A little awkward, but it doesn’t hurt like it did.” Marisa sidestepped a pile of dung that some trader’s pack beast had left in the street. “The other leg will be ready soon, my lord?”

“Erix has had two days. I imagine it will be ready in a third. You know, I can’t think how you can possibly keep your balance with that thing you’re wearing now… but from what I know of Erix’s designs, I gather you will find the new leg rather more to your liking.”

They passed through a small market that had sprung up on the main thoroughfare. Marisa found herself slowing down to take in the smells she’d only experienced through the open noble-house windows. Alongside the foods and fabrics there was plenty of jewellery being sold, but none like the sea glass pendant Lord Aramid had given her. She reached a hand to her throat, touching the outline underneath the tunic.

“Keep an eye on your pockets,” Lord Aramid warned her as a few scrawny peasants wandered past.

“My lord, do you think—”

One of the peasants twisted in a stiff, unnatural way. Marisa’s heart began to race. She’d just caught the glint of light down by the man’s hand, but before she could sound the alarm to Lord Aramid, the man had closed the distance with his knife aiming for Lord Aramid’s throat. Lord Aramid took an automatic step back, dark robes flowing in the breeze. A woman who’d been travelling in the other direction screamed, dropping her basket. Marisa froze, her own shock keeping her from leaping to defend Lord Aramid.

“Traitorous scum,” the man hissed.

 _I don’t have my sword,_ Marisa thought frantically. _Why don’t I have my sword? If this had been Lady Sanda—_

It may have been broad daylight, but the shadows still flashed. Marisa found herself being flung backwards as a gust of black wind passed between her and Lord Aramid. The sudden force was enough to knock her down, and for a few seconds she sat stunned in the sand. The man who’d threatened Lord Aramid thudded to the ground, the silver sheen of a ninja blade sticking out of his back at a perfect ninety-degree angle. Blood had already begun to seep into the street.

“My lord.” The black wind drove the blade in a little deeper. The man’s body shuddered, a last wheezing breath escaping his lungs. “Were you harmed?”

“I was fortunate.” Lord Aramid’s voice was grave, but Marisa thought he looked a little shaken. “Marisa, are you all right?”

“Yes, my lord.” She scrabbled to pick up the notes that had dropped. “My lord, I’m so sorry, I—”

“Don’t apologise, Marisa. Like I said to you before, I don’t need another guard.” He nodded at the masked woman who was standing in front of him. “Thank you. Keep a close watch as we return, just in case he had a backup.”

The woman nodded, wiped down her bloodied sword and disappeared into the shadows. Marisa peered at where she thought the ninja had gone, but saw nothing but frightened marketgoers and pack beasts that had shied at the sudden action. As the traders worked at calming their animals, Lord Aramid reached for Marisa’s hand and helped her up from the ground.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Marisa followed closely, still shaken and a little ashamed. Once or twice she was sure she glimpsed the darting movement of something human-sized that was tailing them, but whenever she looked properly she saw nothing there. If she hadn’t known better, she might have called it a trick of the eye. “How many guards do you have, my lord?” she said.

“Enough.” And that was all Lord Aramid would say on the matter.

Marisa had almost forgotten her interactions with Tengu by the time they returned to the noble-house. She was halfway to her room when she remembered the pile of notes and the scribe’s kit in her hands. Lord Aramid watched with a raised eyebrow, as if he’d been waiting for her to double back. “Don’t go just yet, Marisa. Have a seat.”

Marisa put her things on the table and sat behind them. “You wanted to talk to me, my lord?”

Lord Aramid was already leafing through the pages just as Tengu and Koin had done. “I see you didn’t include that rather tactless comment Lord Ohta made.”

“No, my lord.”

“I must say, I’m rather impressed. You seem to have picked out everything of note without including anything that might be _too_ sensitive to certain individuals. A good scribe knows the balance between verbatim note-taking and leaving out things that are best forgotten.”

“Will you be wanting me to do it again?” Marisa said, half-hoping he’d say no.

“Potentially…” He tapped the edge of the papers so they lined up. “Now, tell me what happened in the council chambers after I left.”

“My lord?”

“You looked a little shaken when you came upstairs. When I asked you if you were well, you lied.”

“The emperor looked through the notes I took,” Marisa said in a rush. “He grabbed them when they were still on the table and gave them to Koin to look through too.”

Lord Aramid’s eyes narrowed a little. “He did, did he?”

“I mean,” Marisa said carefully, “I suppose he just wanted to review what everyone discussed.”

“No,” said Lord Aramid. “Koin was the secretary in that meeting. Didn’t you see him taking notes?”

“I – no, my lord.” Marisa flushed. “I was too busy to notice.”

“I rather suspect Tengu’s interested to see what kind of information you’re recording for me. That’s… not promising. I can’t see him doing the same for any scribe of Lord Ohta’s.” He frowned and tapped his teeth with a fingernail. “Did he say anything else?”

 _Fortuitous._ Wasn’t that what he’d called her illness? “No, my lord. Although I think he might have overheard what you said about the food.”

“It sounds like he’s playing games,” Lord Aramid said grimly. “My best guess is that he’s trying to intimidate you and perhaps by extension, me. Perhaps he’s doing something to test our loyalties… Marisa, I want you to be careful. Tengu may seem a buffoon at times but he’s smart and very dangerous. There’s a good chance he’ll try and turn you against me so he has a spy in this household. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you where your loyalties should lie.”

Was he trying to probe her reactions to that, or had he just made a threat? He’d told Marisa her first duty was to the empire… “No, my lord.”

“By the way, I’d recommend a change of clothes after the earlier incident.”

Marisa looked down at her trousers. They were covered in dust from the street. “I’ll do that now.”

Lady Sanda’s leg might have been half-broken and difficult to use, but Marisa still relished her independence as she changed. Lord Aramid had gifted her a few new robes, plainer than noble robes but certainly a step up from what commoners wore. As she slipped out of her tunic, Cassie came in with a bowl and towel so she could clean off the clinging dust. She had the grace to avert her eyes at Marisa’s state of undress. Marisa, now more used to both Cassie and to being waited on, was struck by how little she actually minded.

“You missed some excitement today, Cassie. Someone tried to assassinate Lord Aramid… again. He didn’t succeed. He was just an angry peasant with a knife… can you lift the bowl a little, please?”

Cassie lifted the bowl. Marisa rubbed the lavender water into her pores, glad of the chance to freshen up. Once she’d managed to get the dust off her face and arms, she tugged the towel off Cassie’s shoulder and dried herself. “You know, I wish I knew what you were thinking. Lord Aramid was almost stabbed and I don’t even know how you feel about it.”

Cassie aside, Marisa wasn’t even sure how _she_ felt about it. There was something about Lord Aramid that she couldn’t quite put into words. “I should have done something,” she said, more to herself than to Cassie. “If that had been Lady Sanda I’d be out of a job. Maybe worse.”

She passed the towel back to Cassie and sat on the bed, thinking. There was no doubt she’d been mixed up in risky business ever since she’d left Lady Sanda’s employ — or perhaps long before that. But back in Bark, Marisa had known the threats and how to mitigate them. She couldn’t honestly say the same for Heft. Everything felt like a danger here, from the emperor himself right through to the lowly man who’d attacked Lord Aramid on the street. She wondered if this was how vagrants and drifters felt when they were traversing the wilderness, doing everything they could to avoid ending up as something’s dinner or a nice heavy weight in someone’s coin purse.

_And look at what happens to most of those people._

Marisa shuddered and reached for her fresh clothes. The sea glass necklace was suddenly feeling a lot heavier.

* * *

By the time it came to leave the Border Zone waystation early the following morning, Kat’s nerves had still not abated. Indeed, she’d spent half the night feeling horribly sick, and now the time was almost upon them, that nausea was threatening to spill out in a manner both disgusting and undignified. She spent their time in the Border Zone counting trees and rocks to distract herself from what lay ahead, and when Ewin announced they were almost in Shem, she had to dive behind one of those rocks to relieve her stomach.

“Do you need to stop for a bit?” Ewin asked her as she heaved. “We’ve made good progress across the Border Zone, a break shouldn’t delay us.”

“No, I… it’s fine.” Kat clung to the rock. Everything seemed to be shaking, not just her. “I’m OK to keep going.”

“If you’re sure.” Ewin crouched to her level, handing her something wrapped in brown paper. She took it with some suspicion and picked the wrappings apart. It was jerky, and good quality jerky at that, nicely chewy and oddly tender. She took a few pieces for herself and tried to give the rest back to Ewin, but he shook his head. “Keep it. You’ll want to keep your strength up.”

“Thank you.” As concerned as his eyes were, Kat couldn’t quite meet them. “For everything.”

“I realise you have no reason to trust Okranites after what the paladins did, and that’s understandable. But even if you can’t trust me, trust the others. They know what they’re doing, and they’ll protect you.”

Kat nodded, only slightly reassured, and re-joined the rest of the group. It felt like too small a group to be journeying through Shem. Eleven people… Ewin had asked around in the waystation the night before, but none of the patrons had been about to head east. It did not feel like they had safety in numbers.

Formation stayed tight as they left the Border Zone, with Ewin’s squad surrounding Kat’s group on all four sides. Kat, squashed into the middle with Rei, Lekko and Pia, wasn’t sure whether to find it comforting or claustrophobic. When Jared appeared on her left side she jumped; she hadn’t even seen the twins. “If it makes you feel better,” he said, “I was scared shitless the first time we went into Shem.”

“I’m not scared.”

“We’ve all been scared this whole time. Even my sister… not that she’ll admit it. Oh yeah, mind where you’re stepping.” He pulled her away from a pile of dark, sticky dung that had been lying in wait for her nervous feet. “Don’t walk in that stuff.”

“That’s beak thing shit, right?” Kat said with a gulp.

“Yeah. Don’t panic, it’s probably not as fresh as it looks.”

_“Probably?”_

“We’ve got eyes at the front and the back. If we see something, you’ll know about it.”

Pia let out a sudden squeak. It sounded as if she’d just spotted something. Kat’s breath caught, but Pia was pointing into the distance — down on their right-hand side, the terrain sloped away into smooth sands dotted with glistening pools of water. Kat squinted into the sun and caught sight of a few dark shapes, dipping their long necks to drink. Gutters, beak things, whatever she wanted to call them, there was no denying she was in their territory now. She clutched reflexively at her stomach as it heaved again.

“I never thought I’d see beak things,” Pia mumbled.

Ewin had seen them too. “We’re downwind and a couple of miles away. As long as we keep our pace and don’t make too much noise, we’ll be fine.”

“I never thought I’d see ’em… I really don’t like ’em. I don’t like this at all.”

“So, has anyone else seen what’s ahead?” Thalen was pointing ahead of them. “Take a look at the sky.”

Kat looked over, glad of the distraction, and as she looked the sky seemed to flare. A narrow beam of blinding white light shimmered into existence, sweeping the distant horizon from right to left. Then another beam appeared, travelling in the opposite direction, and for a few moments the eastern sky lit up like a bizarre lightshow.

“Venge,” Lekko said. “Never been there, never want to.”

Thalen laughed and readjusted his hat. “Yeah. Ain’t worth the number of ruins.”

“We won’t be going too close to Venge,” Ewin said. “Tomorrow we’ll be taking a direct route south to avoid hitting any part of – Beanhop!”

“Already on it.”

It took Kat a few confused seconds to work out what was going on, and by the time she’d worked it out, Beanhop had acted. There was the faint sound of a crossbow shot, followed by several more in quick succession. Kat peered over Beanhop’s shoulder — the group had come to a standstill — and saw a smear of lumpy reddish-orange paste about twenty feet away.

“Thanks, sniper,” Mik said.

“Best not to let them get too close, right?”

Yari, who’d readied his polearm in anticipation of a fight, slowly returned it to an upright position. “Blood spiders?”

“Yup,” Beanhop replied. “Nasty things. The only thing that makes them better than gutters is, it’s possible to outrun them.”

Next to Beanhop, Spade had gone a little pale, and she was staring at the spider remains as if they might suddenly spring to life again. “Unless you’re cornered in a ruin.”

“Unless you’re cornered in a ruin.”

Kat remembered blood spiders all too well. Most of the defensive turrets around Shark had been built with the express purpose of keeping them away from the town. One of her earliest childhood memories was of someone — maybe her grandmother, maybe even her mother — telling her how the blood spiders would eat small children who strayed. There had never been any doubt in Kat’s mind as to the veracity of that statement. She’d seen what could happen if the blood spiders got into town. “Swamp’s full of these,” she said.

“Why ain’t there more _nice_ things in the world?” Pia said.

“Nice things don’t stay alive.” Lekko put a hand on Pia’s shoulder, turning her away from the smeary mess. “We should go before something smells that.”

They didn’t see any more blood spiders after that, and the beak things stayed far away. Beanhop’s instincts were clearly well-honed, and Kat took any moment he wasn’t touching the crossbow as a sign that all was well. Her heart and stomach began to settle down, and she was almost enjoying their walk in the calm sunshine when they suddenly veered off the path.

“What is it?” she hissed at Jared, who was a foot taller than she was.

“Shh.” Ewin gestured back at the path. “Can’t say for sure, but I think that’s a bandit camp up ahead. They may have set up an ambush for people who pass by. We’d be better off taking a scenic route until we’ve moved past it.”

Kat hadn’t fully appreciated the path until they began to tread the wild country. The rocks here were smaller and sharper, and the terrain was rougher. As they went uphill, the sand slid under her feet, leaving her feeling like she was walking on unstable broken glass.

“Watch out for the rusty metal bits that are sticking up,” Lekko said. _“Really_ recommend not walking over those.” It was just as well she’d pointed them out, because they were half-buried in the sand.

“Bits of old machinery?” Kat guessed.

“Most likely, yeah. Definitely fragments of something bigger. Whatever they are, you get one of those stuck in your skin and you’ll have bigger concerns than what they came off.”

“You sound like you’ve been here before, Lekko,” said Ewin.

“I’ve been to parts of Shem, but it was years ago. This bit here, it’s not familiar.”

“You spent a lot of time in Vain, right?” Rei whispered, to everyone’s surprise. Lekko jumped.

“I’m surprised you remember that.”

“So you’ll have met gutters more than once. Do you have any survival tips that might help us, like you did with the skimmers?”

“Gutters have two ways to hurt you,” Lekko said. “They can stomp, or they can peck. The best way to avoid either is to get underneath the thing and stab upwards.”

“Ruka told me you could cut a beak thing’s head off,” Kat said. “When it dips its head to attack.”

Jared chuckled. “Now that’s a _very_ Shek approach.”

“Yeah,” Lekko added, “and it requires serious strength, skill _and_ timing. Better to get underneath if you can, I’d say. Shelters you a little from its friends too, as long as it doesn’t take off running after one of _yours.”_

“I wouldn’t have said it was an _honourable_ way to kill them,” Spade said.

“Maybe not,” Yari pointed out, “but it’s the smart way. As long as your weapon’s small and light.”

“That’s true. How would _you_ kill one?”

“I probably wouldn’t, not on my own. I’m just the meat sack that’s there to distract them.”

“You’re not a very well-armoured meat sack,” Spade said. Kat could see her point; Yari’s shirt and trousers were made of grey leather. Over the top of his clothes he wore a dustcoat made of light brown garru hide, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows to reveal wiry but slender forearms. “Something hits you and you’re down.”

“That’s why I use the polearm. Helps me keep my distance.”

They looped around and returned to the path, bypassing the bandit camp, and from then on the journey became easier. As the sky behind them turned orange and the sky ahead turned dark blue, Kat spotted the lights of the smugglers bar far off in the distance. If the Stenn waystation hadn’t been a fresh memory she might have relaxed knowing they were almost safe. But instead she’d somehow convinced herself that something would come racing out of the shadows last minute, ready to prevent them ever getting to safety.

Jared had noticed Kat’s unease. “You look jumpier now than you did when we crossed into Shem.”

“I just—” Shem had been uneventful, too uneventful. She didn’t even want to think about what tomorrow might hold. “It feels like something’s still waiting to go wrong.”

“Well, you can relax now, because we’re here.”

Kat looked up. The lights of the bar were shining down on them… and they’d arrived unmolested. She let out a long sigh and rubbed her face with her hand.

“All right, let’s try and keep together. Popular place is this.” Ewin stamped his boots at the door and beckoned them in.

The bar was huge, similar in size and design to the slavers bar in the stone camp, and filled floor to ceiling with voices and laughter and hash smoke. The accents were a variety of roamer and drifter, but a lot seemed to be from the Swamp as well. Kat hesitated, recognising the way the barkeep was dressed. “I think these are Grayflayers.”

“Grayflayers?” Pia said.

“One of the swamp-gangs. They aren’t so bad. They had their eye on me when I was a kid, hoping I might join them one day. Taught me thief stuff. But they’re like any gang, you don’t cross them.”

Ewin’s head swivelled. “You _haven’t_ crossed them, have you?”

“No. I pissed people off in Shark, but never them.”

“As long as we’re not about to get thrown out…” Ewin checked his cats. “I’ll get us beds for the night, and we might be able to spare enough for a drink each if they don’t overcharge us.”

“Thanks, Ewin.” Mik was already searching for a good table. She found one that was large enough to seat all of them and plopped down onto a chair with a sigh of relief. Kat sat down, realising too late that her stool was wobbly, and shoved the strap of her backpack underneath the shortened leg to steady it. “Hey, you lot really did good to get rescued by us lot. Not many captains buy drinks for everyone.”

Kat had other things on her mind. “Do you think we’ll see any beak things tomorrow?”

“You and gutters.” Mik rolled her eyes. “If anyone should be stressing over gutters, it’s the woman who got her arm ripped off.”

“The difference is,” said Thalen, “you’re a Tech Hunter. Kat doesn’t walk through gutter territory for a living.”

“I don’t do anything for a living,” Kat said sadly. “I just wander about and cause trouble for everyone.”

“Don’t get yourself down.” Thalen took off his hat then, seeing Pia eyeing it, chuckled and passed it across the table to her. “What you just described, that’s basically what _we_ do.”

The truth felt heavy on Kat’s tongue, but she couldn’t say it. She had no idea what Thalen would even say if he knew the very same people they’d rescued were responsible for what had happened to World’s End. “I don’t think I’d be cut out for Tech Hunter work.”

“No? That kind of surprises me, to be honest. You seem like the adventurous type.”

“I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime.”

“Well, maybe you’ll feel more settled in Flats. It’s a good place.”

“Mm.”

Ewin came over to the table. “Good news, we all have beds for tonight, and the barkeep tells me there’s a caravan heading out to Flats tomorrow. I’m going to speak to them now. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Jared smiled innocently. “We wouldn’t dream of it, captain.”

“Hmm.” Ewin narrowed his eyes at Jared but left without comment. Kat observed his path as he made his way through the bar to where a number of merchants were drinking. Even from this distance, they seemed rugged and well-travelled. Kat smiled for the first time that day; there was definitely a certain appeal to travelling with a caravan. The conversation was looking promising too. As she watched, one of the merchants laughed, clapped Ewin on the back and invited him to sit down.

“Might be a while before we get that drink,” Thalen remarked.

“Oh well,” Yari said, “it’s still nice that he offered.”

The conversation moved on to various topics — Clownsteady and Flats Lagoon and reminiscence about Tech Hunter expeditions long past. It was only when Mik mentioned the twins that Kat realised their group was three people short and not just one. “Where did Spade and Jared go?”

“Huh? Oh. Wandered off.” Lekko had put her bag on the table and was fiddling with one of the buckles. “Does anyone ever know what those two are up to?”

“I can guess.” Beanhop chuckled. “Ewin takes his eyes off them for one second and they’re off like a shot to go do something he’ll disapprove of.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Kat said. She gestured at the Grayflayers. “These people, they aren’t really people to tangle with…”

“I wouldn’t try and play the role of the no-fun patrol. Not where the twins are concerned, anyway.” Mik gave a one-shouldered shrug. “They do their thing, it’s usually kind of above board, and as long as Ewin isn’t likely to find out, we let ’em. Sounds like you guys haven’t had an awful lot of down-time recently.”

Thalen was sifting through his pockets. Yari raised an eyebrow as the spider fangs came out. Finally he found what he was looking for. “Oh, sweet. Looks like I still had some cats in here.”

“Well, don’t be cheap,” said Mik, as Thalen triumphantly jangled the string. “Buy us a drink, then.”

“Pretty sure that’s not part of my contract.” He counted the string, then tapped Kat on the shoulder. “You want a drink? You look like you could use one the most out of all of us.”

“I—” She stopped; Pia was watching their interaction goggle-eyed, and Lekko was feigning extreme interest in her bag buckle. “Sure, then. Thanks.”

“You still owe _me_ a drink, you know,” Yari remarked.

“Oh. Do I? What was it for this time?”

“Nearly getting me killed when you opened the ruin door,” Yari said, but he rolled his eyes. “You’ll owe me an entire _bar’s_ worth of drinks soon.”

Thalen fidgeted, but Kat could tell he was trying not to laugh. “All right, I’ll buy you one later. Come on,” he said to Kat, “let’s go.”

The bar was better stocked than any bar Kat had ever been, with the possible exception of the Dancing Skeleton back in Shark. She dithered in front of a display of different coloured bottles, overcome by choice. Thalen took pity and ordered grog for the pair of them, pulling up a couple of stools so they could sit and drink at the bar.

“Not a fan of crowded places?” he said.

“They’re all right.”

“Thought you looked kind of jumpy, that’s all.”

The Grayflayers were nothing to worry about, even if they did somehow recognise her as the girl who’d gotten on the wrong side of the Hounds. Kat doubted she was even recognisable these days, not with the shaved head and the brand… She found her eyes drawn, instinctively, to Thalen’s own scars. “Do they hurt?”

“Huh?”

Why had she blurted it out like that? Kat quickly shook her head. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“The scars? Yeah, they did at first.” He passed the string of cats to the barkeep. “I imagine the same can be said for yours.”

Kat hesitated, but his comment didn’t sound pointed. More… understanding. “It’s not done healing yet.”

“How long has it been?”

“Month and a half, maybe. Two months? I don’t know, a lot’s happened since. I’m sorry if what I said was rude.”

“Hey, at least you asked. Most people just stare.” He passed her the second cup of grog. “I pissed off a gorillo, if that’s what you were going to ask next.”

“Ouch.”

“Yari freaked, our mam freaked… I guess that’s what you get for being stupid.”

Kat smiled thinly, tracing the brand with her fingertips. “I think you could call this one a stupid scar, too. I pretended to be a boy and the paladins found out. Should have just told them I was a girl from the start. And then they found this.” She showed him Goren’s medallion. Thalen whistled when he saw it.

“Shit yeah, you’re lucky they didn’t kill you on the spot for that.”

Kat put the medallion away. “Well, guess it’ll teach me not to be so reckless in future.”

“But will it? We’re Scorchlanders. You just know that as soon as the next big risk comes along, we’ll do the same all over again.”

“I don’t know… I think I might have become a little more risk averse since then.”

They sipped their grog in unison — and immediately pulled identical faces of disgust. It did _not_ taste good. Kat waited for the barkeep to turn away before she whispered, “That grog, it’s…”

“Some pretty awful shite.” Thalen grimaced and pushed his cup away. “I’ve tasted better in Drifter’s Last. Anyway, being risk averse… ehh, sounds more like you haven’t had a break since then, if you ask me. Like I said, you strike me as the adventurous type. But we can’t have adventure and excitement all the time.”

“I guess not,” Kat said, hugging the cup with her hands.

“You know what you sound like you need?” Thalen said after a short silence. “A party. And it’s almost the end of the year. I’ve heard from Ewin’s squad that Flats Lagoon’s supposed to do good parties. Drinking, drugs and if you’re not into those, a shit-ton of dancing.”

“It’s nearly the new year?” Kat stared into her grog. “Huh, that means it’s almost my birthday. I never even realised.”

“Oh yeah? How old?”

“Eighteen.”

His eyebrows shot up. “And here I was thinking you were older than me. I’d have guessed twenty. No offence,” he added quickly.

Twenty. There had been enough instances where she’d wondered if she’d even live that long. Maybe the stress had aged her enough to compensate for it. “I guess it’s not so far out,” Kat said aloud. “You’re what, eighteen?”

“Nineteen. Been freelancing since… I think I must have been fourteen, coz Yari was eighteen…” He grinned. “Yeah, our mam may not have been happy, but at least she sent me with a babysitter.”

“That’s… impressive, I guess. An actual child mercenary. I think you beat the twins on that one.”

Thalen shrugged. “It was my choice. That or farm work, and I’m not exactly built for farm work. Besides, freelancing is way more exciting.” He looked back at his cup, visibly steeling himself, and drained it. The barkeep swept it away the instant it was back on the bar. “Oh yeah, the twins. What did Mik mean when she said their activities were _kind of above board?”_

“I don’t know. Gambling probably.” Kat’s eyes narrowed. “Shit, if they are, they’d better not be cheating at it.”

Thalen craned his neck to see past her head. Kat glanced in the same direction and saw that Ewin was still in deep conversation with the merchants. They must have been talking for a while, fifteen minutes at least. When she looked back at the table, it was clear that the twins had not returned.

“You think we should go check on them while Ewin’s still distracted?” Thalen said.

“Might be an idea,” Kat replied, and swallowed the last of the disgusting grog. Sitting in a bar surrounded by gang members had left her with the horrible suspicion the twins were about to mix themselves up in things that could only prove to be mistakes.


	9. Casino

Slipping away without Ewin noticing had been easier for Jared and Spade than they’d assumed it would. It was only ever a matter of time — Ewin was notorious for letting his guard slip where the twins were concerned — but this time round, his concern for other matters had shortened that time considerably. As they crossed the bar area, keeping to the crowds as much as possible, Jared wondered if they’d taken too much advantage of Ewin’s worrying.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet,” Spade said, reading his expression.

“Like I would.” Already he could feel the adrenaline chasing away the worst of the guilt. “Come on, let’s find the casino.”

They passed through the crowds to the side of the room, careful to avoid walking past where Ewin was talking to the caravan. A metal screen caught their attention at the same time, and they moved towards it. As they got closer Jared heard the sound of something rattling in a bucket, followed by the muffled swearing of some unlucky gambler. He grinned. Unless he counted that Drifter game back in Flotsam — or the brothers’ abandoned attempt to teach them the rules of Lam — it had been a while since he’d had much of a chance to play anything.

“What d’you reckon?” Spade murmured. “Three Card Whammy? Ninja Blades? Or we could keep things nice and simple and go with Drifter…”

“It’s too easy for that to go wrong,” he whispered back. Rei had caught him cheating last time and besides, they’d be under far more than just Rei’s scrutiny if they played with stakes. “Let’s go with Ninja Blades. Works better for card counting. You think they’ll have a minimum here?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me for Ninja Blades.”

They stood at the entrance to the casino, wafting away stinking clouds of hash smoke. To Jared’s relief, the Ninja Blades table was well inside the partitioned area, meaning it would be far more difficult for Ewin to see them. A lot of separate games were going on in here; Drifter, some game that involved dice in a bucket, and Catcrawlers. Jared’s nose wrinkled at the Catcrawlers — he’d always seen it as a scam designed to take advantage of people who were too drunk to play proper games. “You got any cats at all?” he said to Spade.

“I dunno, we’ve not exactly had much money recently…”

The twins quickly pooled their money; a small quantity of cats, as well as a few bits of lint from their pockets. Jared brushed it away and focused on counting the cats. “Fifty. Could be worse, I suppose.”

But fifty cats didn’t translate to many chips, especially not compared with the number on the Ninja Blades table. Jared hesitated, all too aware that they were loitering, and one of the casino employees looked as though she was about to ask them to pick a game or leave. “Let’s step outside for a minute,” he suggested to Spade.

They sat down at one of the nearby tables, staring despondently at their chips. Jared was tempted to suggest cashing them back in and going back to the bar, but Spade had a stubborn look on her face.

“You _know_ we can win,” she said. “It’s a perfect opportunity to get some cats. Dunno about you, but I feel bad having Ewin pay for everything. Especially since we technically left the squad…”

“Well, what are we supposed to do? Throw it on the Catcrawlers and hope we get lucky?” But she had a point; quite aside from the thrill of the hustle, they were in dire need of money. “If we could somehow convince Mik to lend us some…”

“And what makes you think Mik has money? If she ever had cats, she’d have spent it on booze by now…”

“Unlucky gamblers, are you?” a voice said.

The twins looked up. A man, sweaty and balding with nervous hands, had just left the casino area. Jared thought he’d seen him at the Catcrawlers table earlier. He had the frazzled, slightly wild-eyed look of someone who’d had dryout after dryout, and had only stopped because he’d run out of money. “You’re not the only ones…”

“We haven’t lost any money,” Spade informed him icily. “We just didn’t have enough to play to start with.”

“Huh… well, makes no difference. Unlucky’s unlucky. You want to find someone who can _lend_ to you.” He unconsciously rubbed his thumb against his fingers, as if feeling an invisible string of cats. “I ran outta cats… but I’m gonna try my luck with Borsa…”

“Borsa?” Spade said.

“Huh… you must really not have been here long…” The man pointed at a cloud of hash smoke at the side of the room. “He sometimes lends. If he likes the cut of your jib. He don’t like the look of mine, but I gotta try again.” Desperation crept into his voice like an itch. “I’m gonna get lucky this next round, I just _know_ it. I think I got a handle on this game…”

Seeing Spade had perked up, Jared shot her a look. “We are _not_ borrowing money off a Grayflayer.”

“Oh,” said the man, “he ain’t one of ’em. Anyway, I’m gonna talk to him, even if you don’t…”

“There you go,” Spade said triumphantly. “Not a Grayflayer, and it doesn’t matter either way, coz we’ll be paying him back.” To the man she said, “We’ll go with you.”

“I don’t know, Spade,” Jared murmured as they followed the man’s slightly unsteady walk, “this could prove to be a mistake.”

“Hey, I’m not saying we’re _definitely_ gonna borrow off him. You heard the man, he might not even want to lend to us. But it’s worth a shot.”

The hash smoke seemed to thin out a little as they approached, and by the time the twins were at the table they were able to make out three outlines. Two were tall and horned, bodyguards perhaps, but sitting in the middle was a human man of far shorter stature. As he moved, Jared realised he wasn’t sitting on the stool but standing on it. He had to be half Jared’s height, but Jared still found himself oddly intimidated. This had to be the Borsa the man had spoken of.

 _“Really?”_ Borsa was saying. “You already came to me twice. I gave you the same answer each time. Nothing has changed, unless you count losing all your money on _Catcrawlers_ as a change…”

“But I need cats,” the man gasped.

“Mino, Styn, would you kindly persuade this gentleman to leave?”

The two Shek bodyguards took simultaneous steps forward, and the man evidently decided being broke was preferable to being brok _en._ He turned and fled, disappearing into the crowds. The three pairs of eyes — Jared assumed Borsa had two eyes, though they were currently hidden behind dark glasses — turned towards the twins.

“Aw boss, lookit this one,” one of the bodyguards said, staring hard at Jared. “He’s pretty like a flatskin.”

Seeing that Borsa didn’t look entirely forbidding, Jared plastered on a smile. “I hear you lend to people,” he said.

“I do, boy. What’s that to you?” Borsa picked up a deck of cards, shuffling them with a speed and technique that put Jared’s to shame. Seeing neither of the twins had moved, he paused and peered at them over the top of his glasses. Behind the lenses, his eyes were a piercing blue. “So you’re looking for cats, are you?”

“We could use a few more chips for the casino.” Jared’s smile widened. “I promise it’ll be worth your while.”

“Bold words from a cocky youth.” Borsa’s eyes slid to Spade. “Your boyfriend, is he?”

“My brother.”

“How very nice.” Borsa set his shuffled deck on the table and stroked his beard. “You wouldn’t be twins, would you?” Spade smiled thinly, and Borsa chuckled. “I have to admit, I’ve always liked twins.” He pointed at the stools on Spade and Jared’s side of the table. “Well then, twins. Sit yourselves down. Better prove your worth if you want to see any of my cats.”

Spade sat down, and Jared followed suit. His mind began to race as Borsa started dealing for Ninja Blades. Cheating was too much of a risk — the bodyguards looked like they’d fuck the twins up in a heartbeat if their boss was slighted in any way — but he might be able to get away with counting cards if he was subtle about it…

The game began. It wasn’t an easy game — Borsa was _sharp_ — but two of the five rounds fell to Jared, and one to Spade. When the game was over Borsa took the cards back into the deck and resumed his earlier shuffling. “Well, twins. I can’t say that was the most impressive I’ve ever seen, but three rounds between you is a lot better than most I’ve tested. I might be able to see a nice little payoff from this… how much do you want to borrow, then?”

“Twenty thousand,” Spade said with supreme confidence.

 _“Spade!”_ Jared hissed.

“Come on, brother. We gotta go big if we want to win big. I’m not suggesting we put it all into the pot at the start.”

Borsa laughed. “Your sister has guts to ask me for that much, given her playing… but I like you. Sign here.” He scribbled something on a sheet of paper and passed it across the table towards them. Spade moved to sign at once, but Jared hesitated. There was something about formal contracts that did not sit right with him.

“Will this come back to haunt us?” he said, putting a restraining hand on Spade’s wrist as he scanned Borsa’s handwriting.

“I should be asking you if it will come back to haunt _me,”_ Borsa said rather pointedly. “You get caught breaking casino rules, I don’t know you. And I’ll still expect my money back.”

“All right.” Jared let out a breath and signed the contract before he could change his mind. Borsa inspected the signatures for a moment, then counted out a number of cat-strings and slid them across the table towards the twins.

“Happy playing,” he said.

Spade was already pocketing the money. “Thank you.”

“Go on then, out of my sight.”

“Well,” Spade whispered as they returned to the casino, “we got cats. Better hope this _does_ pay off, huh?”

Jared did not reply. He was starting to wonder if pretending to be a big stupid Shek was really as much of an act as he liked to think it was.

* * *

Kat had been expecting to find the twins in the casino area, but seeing them gambling was still not the outcome she had been hoping for. As she stood next to the metal screen, hearing a pair of thick Stenn accents coming out of the hash smoke, her groan was unavoidable. She quickly ducked back before either Spade or Jared could hear her and look up.

“That bad?” Thalen said.

“They have to be playing with stakes. I just hope they know what they’re doing. And from the sounds of it, they’re hustling everyone…”

Thalen winced. “Well, we can’t really drag them away from their game without pissing everyone off. Let’s just keep an eye on them – and keep an eye out for Ewin too.”

“Is a three good or bad, sister?” Jared grunted.

“Hm hm hm! Depends on what it is. I once killed three bonedogs. When it comes to cards, perhaps it is also good.”

Kat smacked herself in the face with her hand. “Definitely hustling,” she told Thalen, who was looking concerned. “I can’t see this ending well… shit, if they get us all thrown out of the bar for the beak things to feast on…”

“Just as well Yari’s not here,” Thalen said, taking another peek around the screen. “He’d be dragging them out by the horns and giving them a lecture.”

“He’s like Ewin, then?”

“Hah, my brother’s way stuffier than Ewin. He’s like the personification of the no-fun patrol. Guess it’d come in handy here, though…”

They found a table which allowed them to watch both Ewin and the twins. For a few minutes there was nothing but the sound of disappointed gamblers, the occasional triumphant winner, and the shouts of _dryout_ on the Catcrawlers table. Kat wrinkled her nose; the casino was full of people smoking hash, and the smell was getting to her even though they were some distance away. “I hope they don’t take the whole evening. I’m getting a headache.”

“We’ll just have to make our own fun. You got a set of cards?”

“I don’t have much more than the clothes on my back. I dunno where Jared even got his cards from… probably nicked ’em from World’s End…” Kat reached into her pockets but found nothing but the bag of jerky. She set it on the table between them and they spent the next five minutes snacking in silence. “Ewin still talking to the merchants?” she said finally.

“Yup. I’m guessing the twins are—”

“Still doing their thing,” Kat said, absent-mindedly chewing the corner of the jerky as she watched them. Struck with a sudden suspicion she added, “Where did they even get the money to play in the first place?”

“Probably better not to ask.” He moved his hand towards the bag and stopped, evidently realising there was only one piece left. “You should have that… anyway, I don’t think I know much about you. You’re from the Swamp, right?”

“Yeah, from Shark. Weird to see swamp-gangs out here in Shem.”

“So how come you ended up in… I’m gonna guess the Holy Nation, given…” He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry if it’s a sensitive topic.”

“It kind of is.” _But not just for the reasons you’d think._ “I’d rather not discuss it, to be honest. Kind of preoccupied with the future.”

“Sure, sure. Sorry.”

“How come you and Yari ended up with Ewin’s squad?” Kat said quickly.

“Most freelancing work is… I won’t lie… kinda dodgy. We nearly got ourselves caught up in a hash smuggling operation by accident, so after that we decided we’d try our luck with the Tech Hunters. Headed north a little, pissed around World’s End trying to find squads that’d take two unknowns without any Tech Hunter credentials, and joined onto Ewin’s squad. He was willing to give us a shot.”

“Tech Hunters don’t like freelancers?”

“Ehh.” He shrugged. “It’s like most things, you gotta build a reputation. Then captains might refer you to other captains… I dunno. In some ways, it might be nice to keep on going with the Tech Hunters… it’s certainly better than getting caught up working for some rich asshole who’s too puny to even lift a sword. But who knows what’s happening now?” He lowered his voice. “Last night, I heard some people talking about war in the northern imperial territories. Sounds like things might be going to shit up there.”

“What were they saying?”

“Not much, it sounded like a bunch’a rumours with a bit of truth mixed in there somewhere… Maybe World’s End triggered something bigger. Fucking Holy Nation.”

Kat scratched at her scarred hand. “We don’t know it was the Holy Nation who destroyed World’s End.”

“Yeah, but let’s face it, who else? What reason would Tengu have to murder people who were supplying the United Cities with knowledge?” He kicked his boots up onto a nearby stool. “What do you think of Ewin, by the way?”

Kat stared stupidly at him for a second; the nature of the topics, and Thalen’s rapid switch between them, was leaving her with a vague sense of whiplash. “I – I guess he seems all right… for someone from the Holy Nation.”

“Hah. You know, even we Okran-worshippers in the south don’t like the Holy Nation. They’re kind of extreme even by our standards.”

“So you worship Okran?”

“Nah, not really. Definitely the least religious person in my family.”

“Mm… Why do you ask about Ewin anyway? Are you about to tell me you don’t trust him, or something?”

Thalen chuckled. “No, not at all. I mean… he’s got his bad side, everyone does, but he seems like one of the good ones. I just couldn’t help but notice you were a little jumpy around him. Not that I can blame you for it.”

Kat took the last slice of jerky and crumpled the brown paper in her fist. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“Hey, I’m pretty sure he understands. Ah, speaking of…” He was staring past Kat’s line of sight, and as she watched, he raised a hand in uncertain greeting. Kat groaned; Ewin had evidently just finished his conversation with the merchants and had returned Thalen’s gesture. “Sorry. He saw us across the bar. Aaaand it looks like he’s coming over here.”

“I see _let’s try and keep together_ was a little too much to hope for,” Ewin remarked as he approached. “I was hoping to talk to everyone in one go… why are you two all the way over here, anyway?”

Ewin’s voice might not have been loud, but it was deep and distinctive. As soon as he spoke, Kat caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Jared was clumsily nudging Spade, who was evidently having too good a time to even notice. Kat bit hard on her lip to keep herself from laughing — it _wasn’t_ funny — while Thalen struggled to come up with a good explanation. “We… uh… we…”

“He wanted to buy me a drink,” Kat said quickly, praying she didn’t sound as breathless as she feared. “We were just having a bit of private conversation. We’ll come back to the table in a minute.”

 _“Ah.”_ Ewin backed off immediately. “Of course. I understand. Come back when you’re ready.”

His departure left behind a lingering awkwardness. Kat and Thalen stared at one another for a second, then hurriedly dropped their gazes.

“Let’s get the twins,” Thalen said, and Kat wholeheartedly agreed. But the twins had already begun their escape, an escape that was somewhat hindered by tables, chairs and other patrons. Kat grabbed Spade’s arm before she could collide with the metal screen.

“Hah… thanks, Kat…”

“Had fun?” said Thalen.

“Oh, yeah.” Spade’s eyes, slightly unfocused, lit up at once. “We won pretty big. Jared, show them.”

Jared held up a wooden tray brimming with casino chips. Kat grimaced, but the other patrons seemed too intoxicated to care how much they’d lost. She hoped for the twins’ sakes that the patrons didn’t smarten up when they sobered up. “Don’t let Ewin see those.”

“We’ll cash them in.” Spade giggled. It was a sound Kat had never heard her make before. “Hide all the evvy-dence. Evidence. Did you… _hah_ … tell him?”

“No, we covered your arses… wait. Did you two manage to hotbox yourselves?”

“There did seem to be a lot of smoke where they were sitting,” Thalen observed. “Still, that’s impressive. Twenty minutes and they’re already stoned off their gourds.”

Jared, who was trying to cash in the chips, was already struggling with motor skills. “We’re not _that_ bad. Just… possibly… a _little_ high?”

“I think maybe we should look after those until you’re sober,” Thalen said, as the cashier exchanged the chips for cats.

“Pff, Koel… you worry too much.”

Kat swept the money into her pockets before Jared could grab it. “You two had better come and sit down.”

There was no surprise on Ewin’s face when the four of them returned. “Well, nine of eleven being sober isn’t too bad.”

“We’re mostly sober,” Jared said, almost missing the stool Yari had just pulled out for him. “Well, mentally sober anyway. And it wasn’t our fault everyone was smoking around us.”

“Perhaps if you’d stayed at the table rather than seek out the smokiest bit of the bar…” Ewin shook his head and passed them his waterskin. “You two had better keep yourselves hydrated.”

As the twins tried unsuccessfully to sober up, Ewin settled in his seat and glanced around at the more sober members of the group. “So, we’ve got a caravan that’s willing to join with us on the last leg of the journey to Flats. We’ll help guard them and the cargo, they’ll throw some money our way so we don’t arrive in town entirely cat-less, everyone benefits. With this in mind, I was going to say we should give them a good impression of us, but…” He narrowed his eyes at Spade and Jared. “We’ll need to be up at dawn and ready to leave as soon as it’s light enough. Farvel doesn’t want to be walking at night any more than we do.”

“Doing what we were doing anyway _and_ getting paid for it?” Thalen grinned. “Sounds good.”

“Now, I think I promised you all a drink? _Not_ you two,” Ewin added, as Spade started to speak. “I think you two need to ride that out.”

“This is why we like Ewin,” Spade said, tugging at Yari’s sleeve. In a stage whisper she added, “He’s like our mum but nicer.”

“Even if I had a hundred children, none of them could ever turn my hair grey quite like the pair of you. Pia, could you help me with the drinks?”

Pia looked up so sharply Thalen’s hat flew off her head. As she bent to pick it up she mumbled, “Oh, but what if I drop one? Or spill one? Or spill all of them? Or—”

“We’ll get a tray.”

Kat’s evening wasn’t quite the zoned-out blur it must have been for Spade and Jared, but she was definitely feeling the results of too much grog. Thalen, who’d had the same number of drinks as her, seemed entirely unaffected. It occurred to Kat that her tolerance for intoxicants wasn’t likely to be especially high at the moment, which probably went some way to explaining the effect the hash smoke had had on the twins.

“Come on,” said Lekko, after Kat tried and failed to remember the lyrics to _Barmaid Sal,_ “I think you should sleep this off.”

“I’m not a lightweight,” Kat protested as Lekko took her upstairs.

“Oh yes, and you and Thalen haven’t been eyeing each other up all evening.”

“Now _that_ is untrue.” She hiccupped. “I’m not really interested in boys, promise. Or girls. I just wanted to sing…”

“And I think everyone will thank you for waiting until you’ve sobered up.” Lekko pulled the blanket over her. “But I’m glad you had fun. I think you needed it.”

“Bloody twins, though,” Kat said sleepily. “That’s two favours I’ve done them now. I mean, the Deadhive thing, Jared did save me, but… we’re still not even.”

“Mm, yes. I think you might have some money to give back to Jared.”

“Money?”

“The money you made me promise not to tell Ewin about.”

“Shit… yeah… well, he can wait. Hey, why haven’t you dragged the twins up here? Or Rei?” Kat sat up, struck with sudden panic. “Shit, I’ve hardly checked in with her all evening…”

“I have, and she’s doing OK. She seems to have enjoyed herself, in her own way.”

“But I’m a bad friend, right?” Kat said, lying back down. “I’ve been forgetting her…”

“I don’t think you have. You’ve been through some awful stuff as well, don’t forget. And you can’t worry about her all the time, that’s not good for either of you.” Lekko laid a hand on her head, just for a second. “I’ll get Rei. _You_ get some sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

Kat lay in the darkness, her head occupying that pleasant border between tipsy and drunk. She could hear the sounds of other people snoring in beds nearby. Complete strangers, but out here in the middle of beak thing territory, that didn’t worry her anywhere near as much as she’d thought it might. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, watching the stars twinkle outside the windows, and snuggled into a comfortable position.

There came the sound of a number of people ascending the ramp, accompanied by familiar voices; it seemed their group had made a decision, en masse, to sleep. Kat heard shuffling, yawning, the creaking of beds as people climbed into them. As things grew quiet and settled down she rolled over, noticing as she did that someone was still up and about. A tall and broad-shouldered figure, tucking the blankets around a still-mumbling Jared. She watched as Ewin moved on to Spade and carefully readjusted her pillow. “Daft kids,” he said to himself almost affectionately, then moved with soft footsteps to his own bed.

Kat lay where she was, eyes drifting closed, but her smile kept her face from fully relaxing. However high Spade had been when she’d made her earlier statement, she’d been right. From the looks of things, Lekko wasn’t the only person in the group who’d stepped in to fill a parent’s role.


	10. Caravan

The mechanical leg, smooth and elegant and expertly crafted, was even more incredible than Marisa had been expecting. She reached out to lift it from the box but drew her hand back, almost afraid to touch the thing. It was too perfect, and her fingertips suddenly felt very oily. Even when she rubbed them on the hem of her tunic, the grease still clung.

“What do you think?” said Lord Aramid. “Don’t be afraid to try it on. See how you like the weight.”

Marisa picked up the leg. It wasn’t as solid as it looked, and felt almost as light as the one Lady Sanda had given her. Smiling a little, she sat at the table and began the process of attaching the new limb to the stump. This one was more complicated to secure; leather straps held the prosthesis in place and buckling them all was a fiddly task. Smaller metallic pieces pushed into her thigh when she moved, though given how thorough the engineer had been with his measurements, she supposed that was by design. When she stretched the leg it felt oddly responsive, as if she’d attached a real limb rather than a piece of metal.

The only thing left to do was test it. Marisa gave the leg a last stretch, getting used to the feel of a properly working leg again. Then she stood up, keeping one hand on the table just in case she lost her balance.

She didn’t lose her balance; the leg felt steady, the difference remarkable. Lady Sanda’s leg had not been comfortable or easy to walk on, but the custom-made limb mimicked a real one with such precision Marisa almost forgot she was using a prosthesis. She then promptly banged the edge of her metal foot against the table leg, and was suddenly thankful the mimicry wasn’t perfect.

“Do try not to destroy it,” Lord Aramid said wryly.

“Sorry.” She took a tentative step, then another. It felt strange, like wearing new shoes, but walking was certainly easier. Faster, too. She crossed the room at a speed she hadn’t managed since before she’d lost her leg, turning on her artificial heel when she reached the wall. It wasn’t quite the slick, effortless movement she’d been hoping for — she’d spent too much time without a leg for that — but she swiftly corrected her balance and returned to the table with a grin and a slight flush in her cheeks.

The difference had not been lost on Lord Aramid. “That’s a vast improvement. Your hips are more aligned, for a start.”

“They are?” Marisa stared down at her foot — no, _feet_ — and tried not to think about how he’d been looking at her hips.

“Certainly. Stand up straight.” He moved around her, observing her posture from all angles, then stepped back with a satisfied nod. “I take it that leg is easier for you?”

“Yes, my lord. I don’t know how it would do outdoors, though. On sand or hills.”

“I imagine it will work just as well. These kinds of Skeleton limbs are well-designed.” He frowned suddenly. “That being said, Skeletons don’t swim, so their legs aren’t designed for water. Don’t get it wet.”

“Will that break it?”

“I wouldn’t take the gamble.”

Marisa nodded. She’d already broken one leg. “Maybe people will stop calling me a cripple behind their hands.”

“They still say that, do they?”

“When I’ve been to the palace. Maybe they think I’m deaf as well as one-legged.”

“Try not to let it get to you. Most people around here feel insecure in their statuses. And you, like me, are something of a challenge to those statuses.” Lord Aramid smiled. “They feel the need to elevate themselves above you.”

“You’d call me a challenge, my lord?”

“Of a sort. You’ve occupied an elite position, having been one of Lady Sanda’s guards. But the nobility would have seen you simply as the muscle that stands between them and the people who’d do them harm. Now, they don’t quite know what to make of you. Of either of us.” He chuckled. “We occupy a world we weren’t born into.”

“My lord, did you ever think you’d end up in the imperial nobility? Back when you were trading slaves?”

“Not at first, but the United Cities pays close attention to the wealthy. When I’d amassed all the riches I could ever spend, it occurred to me that I could… not quite _buy_ my way in, but certainly show my cats to the right people. It’s all about the right people… the right people in the right places at the right times, and that’s how I entered the nobility – with careful planning, opportunism and a little bit of luck.”

“I see, my lord.”

“I sometimes wonder, Marisa. Do you have political aspirations of your own?”

Marisa sat down. “My job has always been to serve those with political aspirations,” she said carefully. “It’s never been my place to—”

“I notice you speak in terms of _has been._ What about your _will be?”_

“Politics isn’t a game I know well enough to play yet, my lord.”

“And yet you’re playing it with me now. You can speak freely, Marisa. If it’s influence you’re after, there are ways and means of getting you that influence.”

“I support no causes,” Marisa said.

“Influence isn’t just about getting your point across.”

“I know that, my lord.”

“But I see you prize staying alive over having wealth and power. A far wiser approach than many in these parts.” He sat opposite her and folded his hands on the table. “Too many people think that power lies in a position, but that isn’t necessarily so. Take Lady Emika, for example. She’s a minor noble, strengthened through marriage. All her lands and powers are in her husband’s name. Yet don’t you get the impression she has more influence over Tengu than Lord Ohta himself? If we look only at the powers she has on paper, she shouldn’t even have been at the war council.”

“I suppose so.”

“You seem doubtful. Another example, then. Diplomat Koin. On the surface, _diplomat_ seems a meaningless title. He’s a glorified secretary – but a glorified secretary to the emperor. Do you think he spends much of his time arguing his case in councils? No. But what do you see him doing? He sits quietly. He listens. And he takes notes for the emperor. How do you think that might benefit him?”

“I – I mean, it sounds to me like his title gives him more prestige than his actual work.”

“Think about it, Marisa. Does Tengu remember every second of those long meetings? No, of course not. He’s the sort of man who’ll forget anything that wasn’t of personal interest. And who does he rely on to remind him? The man he has taking notes. Now, if Koin decides the agenda discussed wasn’t quite to his liking, he can emphasise whichever parts he wants when he delivers his report to the emperor. Remember, Marisa. The man who controls the pen controls the narrative. Now, I’m rather curious to see what this says about you…”

Marisa felt a drop of sweat run down her back. Lord Aramid crossed the room to his bookshelf and came back with the pile of handwritten notes she’d compiled in the war council.

“At first you seemed very attentive, writing down everything that was discussed… almost verbatim, in fact. Then I noticed you left out Lord Ohta’s remarks. And, looking through this…” He lifted a few pages, searching. “Ah yes. A great deal of page space was devoted to conscriptions in Bark, and far less to the preceding topic of what to do with Okran-worshippers living within imperial territories.”

“My lord, I—”

“Yet I remember the matter of the Okran-worshippers sparking a fierce debate that drew rather too much attention to our side of the table,” Lord Aramid mused. “Interesting.”

“My lord, I’m sorry. I know you’d rather I’d have taken more notes on that.”

“But you see, don’t you Marisa, how personal biases can lead to different interpretations of the same event?”

“Yes, my lord,” she whispered.

“I must confess I’m curious. You still consider Bark your home, don’t you?”

“In a sense.” Marisa hesitated. “I’m still getting used to the capital.”

“As am I. I’ve spent less time in Heft than I have in other cities, like Heng. Heng’s rather a haven for merchants. This place, on the other hand… well, it’s a haven for _something.”_ He put the notes away. “We’re both outsiders. I suppose you could be described as a small-town girl… whereas I’m a foreigner with a mostly foreign god. As far as power goes, it’ll be a struggle to live up to the likes of Lord and Lady Heft.”

Marisa scratched at an indent on the table. “Will you want me to take notes again, my lord?”

“Potentially. But not necessarily for me… I suggest we see how this war plays out. There may come a time when we need to change our approach.”

“What do you think will happen next with the war, my lord?”

“It’s hard to predict. Perhaps nothing, perhaps everything. I’m not sure if the Okranites _will_ retaliate or not. It’s in their interests to focus on defending their border… but it’s what Tengu might do that worries me.” He frowned. “When I first came to the capital, I didn’t foresee this. Admittedly, I didn’t foresee the situation in the palace either… Something tells me that Tengu’s pulling very few of the strings here.”

Marisa looked over at Lady Sanda’s leg. From the time she’d taken it off right up until now, it had been resting, discarded and forgotten, against the side of the table. With the large, jagged hole in the casing and loose screws around the knee she was glad to be rid of it, but oddly saddened at the same time. Bark, with its orange sands and glittering sea, had never seemed so far away.

* * *

The morning sky was still a deep starry blue when they met the caravan outside the smugglers bar. The darkness came as a welcome relief for Jared, whose head had ached enough in the bar-room lights. He had not found sobriety a pleasant experience and, judging by the way Spade was hugging herself, neither had she.

“I’m sure things are still spinning,” she muttered as the merchants readied the garru for the journey south. “Dunno about you, but I felt sick all night.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think we’re the only ones that feel like shit this morning.” Jared watched as Kat trudged past on her way to the garru. “You doing all right, swamp-lander?”

“Just a headache,” Kat said, but she looked miserable. “I don’t know if it was the alcohol, or the hash smoke, or too much sun yesterday.”

“Whatever the cause, water’s the cure.” Jared gave Kat his waterskin. “Drink plenty of fluids and you’ll feel better. We should know, we’ve done plenty of hungover travelling.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. That reminds me, I got something for you.” She slipped something heavy into his hand. “Your winnings from last night.”

Jared looked down at the cats with frustrated stupidity. His mind was still full of smoke, but by this point he was sober enough to know he was being slow. “Winnings… oh, yeah. I thought you might have pocketed those for good.”

Kat’s eyes flashed. “I’m not a thief.”

“Oh, Jared,” Spade tutted, “that was real smooth.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… well, I thought you and Thalen might want some recompense for everything you did last night.”

“Hey, only one of us is a mercenary,” said Thalen, overhearing, “and it isn’t her.”

“Look, I’m sorry… Thanks for having our backs. Both of you.”

“It doesn’t mean I approve.” Kat had finished drinking. She wiped her mouth on her hand and passed the waterskin back to Jared. “You two were cheating the Grayflayers, weren’t you?”

To Jared’s relief, Ewin was safely out of earshot. “Not cheating, as such. A bit of card counting, a few distraction techniques. Serves ’em right for thinking we were dumb Shek.”

“As far as the Grayflayers are concerned, you _were_ cheating them. You’re lucky they didn’t catch you. Cross the swamp-gangs and they’ll cut off your fingers – or your ears.”

“Lucky I’ve got neither, huh,” Spade said sardonically.

“Don’t get too stressed on our account, Kat.” Jared grinned. “We know what we’re doing. Uh, Ewin still doesn’t know, right?”

Kat shrugged. “If he does, I haven’t told him.”

“Great. Thanks again, swamp-lander. We owe you one.”

As the first true lights of dawn began to show on the eastern horizon, the group set out to the south. The Shem morning was bright, even when the sun was still on the horizon, and the sands glowed. Jared’s eyes began to hurt. He screwed up his eyes, not wanting a repeat of the Stenn, and walked alongside Spade and the caravan. The rhythmic walk of the garru, accompanied by soft snorts and lows, was oddly hypnotising. The trance was only broken when Spade nudged him.

“Huh?”

“We’ve stopped, dumbass.”

“Oh.” Jared looked around. The terrain was a lot different than it had been earlier in the morning. Several of the merchants had taken the garru by their harnesses and were leading them to a small lake nearby so they could drink. The trail here was narrower, with the water on their right and the rising face of a cliff on their left. “I’m guessing this is still Shem.”

“Yup, think so. Least we’re on the flats now. Glad we left the hills.” Spade sat on a rock at the base of the cliff, sunning herself. “So how much did we win last night?”

“Haven’t counted yet.”

“Well, better make a start, coz I want my share.”

They spread their winnings over the rock, keeping a watchful eye on Ewin. Spade whistled as the cats became two enormous piles. “We _are_ counting right, aren’t we? We’re not so hungover we can’t do basic maths?”

“Shit, that was a good haul.” Jared swept his half of the winnings back into his pockets. “Thirty thousand cats. _Each.”_

“I think that’s the best we’ve ever had,” Spade said as she retrieved her money. “Looks like your card counting paid off.”

“Couldn’t have done it without the team effort. When that guy started looking suspicious, you did a great job of deflecting it.”

They grinned at each other, and for just a second it was as if nothing had ever changed. Spade had never been as keen on gambling as Jared — she always relied on him to make the actual money from it — but they’d always approached casinos as a pair. Then Spade’s smile faded. “It’s been a while, huh?” she said. “Since we worked that well together.”

“Just proves we still got it, right?” Realising her mood had changed like the wind, Jared swung his legs around the rock, so they were sitting together properly. “Look, maybe we should have that talk Ewin wanted us to have.”

“I… I don’t know if…”

“Because I’m sorry.”

“No. _No.”_ She moved away from him until she was sitting at the edge of the rock. “Don’t do the apology thing. Please. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to forget it.”

“Spade—” He stopped, realising she was shaking. “OK.”

Spade hugged her knees, staring at the horizon. Realising she no longer wanted him around, Jared gave her some space. Mik, who’d been observing their interaction from a distance, raised an eyebrow at Jared’s departure.

“What’s up?” she asked him.

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure? You sound—” She saw the expression on his face and decided not to push it. “Come and sit with us.”

Jared looked past Mik. Pia and Beanhop were sitting at the edge of the lake, Pia swirling her feet in the water and Beanhop checking his crossbow. For a second Jared was tempted, but the feeling of old times was gone along with all its charms. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

Mik paused. “OK,” she said finally, and went back to the watering hole. Jared stood by, watching the caravan leader give instruction to the other traders. They’d be setting off soon enough anyway, he could survive a few minutes without talking to anyone…

One of the garru let out an enormous bellow.

Jared didn’t have a great deal of experience with garru, but he knew enough to recognise the sound as the sort wild garru made when they were spooked. The sound set off the other garru, and soon the startled _gruuuuu_ sound became a cacophony. Several tried to bolt. The merchants were shouting to one another in sudden panic, grabbing reins and harnesses, trying to calm the frightened animals. Out of the corner of his eye, Jared saw Ewin draw his sword. _“Get in formation!”_

The Tech Hunters scrambled to follow Ewin’s orders, forming a defensive wall between the cliff and the lake. It was the sort of thing Jared had done many times in the past, but this time his adrenaline was all over the place. He didn’t even realise he was in the wall until Ewin tapped his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be fighting.”

“You need swords.”

The path ahead was shaking, stirring up dust that made it difficult to see the horizon. A high-pitched screech like that of a furious carrion-bird pierced Jared’s skull. It was a sound he knew, and it was never a sound he enjoyed hearing.

“Gutters!” someone shouted.

The gutters were closing the distance with great speed. Beanhop was shooting into the swirling dust, and a few of his bolts must have hit, because the carrion-bird screech suddenly sounded more like a screech of pain than a battle-cry. Jared risked a glance back to check the others were safe behind the wall and saw Kat, rooted to the spot with panic in her eyes.

“Don’t worry!” he yelled at her. “We got this!”

Two gutters, enough to give them a hard time if they didn’t act fast. They were hideous things; their eyes were non-existent, their necks were as long as a tall man and their heads were mostly sharp beak. One of those beaks was stabbing through the air towards them now. Pia screamed from behind the barricade, but Ewin’s sword had already risen to meet it. Jared was more concerned about the second gutter. It had been a little way behind the first, and unlike the first it showed no signs of slowing down to attack. If it ploughed straight through their defences… “Beanhop!”

Beanhop had already taken notice and was shooting at the second gutter with the kind of unrivalled speed Jared had come to expect from him. The gutter slowed, that pained screech piercing Jared’s skull again, but even with half a dozen crossbow bolts in its neck it was still standing. Jared pushed Beanhop out of the wall, back towards relative safety — and a second later, Spade jumped in to fill his place. Jared stared at her.

“You’re fighting?” he said, even though the answer was obvious.

“What do you think? Can’t let you have all the fun.” Spade was wielding her sidearm left-handed. “Let’s get these fucking gutters dealt with.”

Jared’s sabre was heavier than he could comfortably handle, and he hadn’t used it enough to be familiar with the balance. As a result the weighting took him by surprise, and he completely missed the gutter he was trying to attack. Spade grabbed his arm with her maimed hand, pushing him back into the line.

“Be careful!” she snapped.

“I’m trying!”

More crossbow bolts were appearing in both gutters; Beanhop had evidently found a high spot to shoot from. But it didn’t seem to be enough — they were bigger than many gutters Jared had faced in the past, and the crossbow bolts looked like needles in their hides. Mik, relegated to the sidelines on account of her missing arm, cheered every time Beanhop’s crossbow found its mark.

“Mik, this is not a spectator sport!” Ewin yelled, not taking his eyes off the gutters. “Take it seriously and _stay back!”_

“We need to try something else.” Thalen was gripping his katana tightly. “These gutters, they’re too big to take down with crossbows…”

“And what do you suggest?” Ewin said, raising his sword to block a gutter beak. “If we break the formation, we’re putting everyone behind us at risk.”

“We’re just buying time! If a couple of us skirted round the gutters while they’re distracted, the people with the smaller swords could stab them from underneath—”

“It’s not safe, Thalen!”

“This isn’t safe either!”

“Ewin’s right,” Yari said. “We need to stick together.”

“And what am I supposed to do from here, when all I got is a katana?” Thalen was already eyeing up the gutters as if getting ready to run. Yari tried to keep him back with the polearm, but Thalen ducked underneath and took off running. “You guys stay where you are.”

“Thalen. _Thalen!”_

But it was too late. Thalen was already dodging the gutters’ beaks, his sword flashing in his hand. Ewin just stared. “Does your brother _ever_ listen?”

“I need to stop him.” Yari was already advancing, but Ewin dragged him back. “Let me protect him!”

“You’re not wearing enough armour. One wrong move and you’re down – Thalen, get _out_ of there!”

Jared watched as the small, tricorn-wearing figure weaved his way past the gutters. He’d moved fast, and for a second Jared thought he might just have the right idea. But then the gutter reared, and Thalen visibly faltered. Jared was all too familiar with regret, and Thalen’s body language screamed _oh fuck oh shit oh fuck._ It looked as though the gamble would not pay off, and Jared had a sudden horrible vision of things getting very messy very fast.

“Thalen!” he shouted. “Behind you!”

Thalen moved just in time as the two gutters converged. His boots slid in the dust for a second — then he righted his balance and started running again. Jared watched despairingly; even if Thalen regretted his decision, he’d evidently decided to double down on his original plan.

It was the sort of idiocy Koel might have tried. Sure, stabbing upwards was a tried and true approach of killing gutters, but it was best done when the gutters were encircled, not when they were free to stomp and peck as they wished… Jared risked a glance over his shoulder. There weren’t enough trained swords to surround the gutters, and breaking the line would only guarantee the deaths of the ex-slaves and most of the caravan…

Thalen dived under one of the gutters, having evidently found a vulnerable looking spot. Jared couldn’t see the thrust of the katana but it must have happened, because the gutter screeched in pain. Thalen dug his heels into the sand, his face a mask of determination under his hat. The gutter took off running, trying to shake off the thing that had impaled it. For a second or two, it dragged Thalen with it… then Thalen lost his grip on the katana and landed hard in the dust. Now he was prone, swordless and — given he was no longer moving — injured. Worse still, the gutter was circling round again, determined to finish off the nuisance that had left a sword embedded in its belly.

“Thalen!” Yari screamed.

Everything in front of their wall was chaos. The other gutter was still alive, and the one Thalen had just stabbed was homing in on the figure trying and failing to get up from the ground. Jared’s pulse, already racing, raced faster. They couldn’t all break the line, not for Thalen’s sake, but maybe…

“Jared, what are you doing?” Ewin demanded as Jared ran towards the gutters.

“I can’t stay here and watch!” But Jared, like Thalen, realised his mistake as he broke out of the line. Thalen was too far away. Even if Jared managed to grab him, he’d still need to be able to drag him back to relative safety, and even if he’d been in peak physical condition he wouldn’t have been able to avoid the beaks. “Oh, fuck.”

Something collided with him, knocking him down. For a bizarre second he thought it was Ewin, tackling him to the ground. It was only when Jared saw his own blood that he realised he’d been struck — and the gutter was gearing up for a second attack.

 _“Fuck!”_ It was the strongest expletive he could think of, but it still felt like an understatement. He rolled just in time, his reflexes kicking in as the beak came stabbing towards him. The ground shook with the impact as that beak hit the sand. Jared sprang to his feet, darting around stomping gutter legs. If he was going to risk death for the sake of an idiot flatskin, he might as well go all-out…

“Hey!” Spade yelled. “Over here!”

Jared jumped, but she hadn’t been addressing him. The defensive wall had changed tactics, making themselves loud and noisy in an attempt to draw attention away from Jared and Thalen. But it was only working on one of the gutters… the other was right over Thalen, and the beak was stabbing down…

Jared’s sabre seemed to move of its own accord. One moment he was a helpless spectator, the next he was pushing back against the edge of a sharp beak that was doing its best to tear into its prey. Jared pressed harder with the sabre, and the hide gave way to tissue. The gutter snatched its head backwards, its beak half-torn at its base, and let out an agonised screech.

“Thalen, you need to try and move!” Jared snapped. He wasn’t at all sure the gutter wouldn’t try again. “Crawl if you need to, get back to the line!”

Thalen just stared at him. His eyes were wide and panicked, his breathing laboured and coming in gasps. Jared swore again — yet more understatements — and gripped his sabre more tightly. Options, each as bad as the last, flashed through his mind. Option one, dragging Thalen to safety, had already been discounted. Option two involved the Shek approach to gutter dismemberment, but he didn’t think he had the strength for that either. Or he could leave Thalen to the gutter’s mercy while he tried to stab the thing in the belly… an approach that had not gone well for Thalen.

“All right then,” he said, facing the gutter as Thalen gasped behind him, “play dead. They might eat you dead or alive, but they’re more interested in threats right now.”

There wasn’t time to see if Thalen heeded his instructions or not. If the other gutter decided Jared was a safer target than the people in the wall, they were both screwed. He swore one last time, sure that word was going to be his last, and dived past the gutter’s beak to its underside.

The hide of the gutter’s belly was splashed with blood, but the wound Thalen had inflicted was being stoppered by the katana. Jared hesitated, his mind racing. The wound evidently hadn’t punctured any organs badly enough to kill the gutter outright. Removing the katana might cause exsanguination, but not fast enough, and he’d need to take at least one hand off the sabre for that. That left the sabre itself…

 _Stab upwards. That’s how you kill them._ That split-second decision made, Jared thrust the blade of his sabre upwards, stabbing into the gutter’s belly as his arm muscles screamed. For a moment there was nothing except parting flesh…

… and then came the stink of something much worse than blood, something spurting out of the wound Jared had made. He pulled the sword free and instantly regretted it as warm liquid splattered onto his face and clothes. The gutter reared up, forcing Jared to let go of the sword, but its front legs wobbled as it landed. It was mortally wounded, and only just realising it. Then the wobbling legs buckled and the gutter began to fall — right over where Thalen was lying—

It was too late to pull Thalen out of the shadow. Realising he might be making yet another stupid mistake that would crush them both, Jared threw himself over the shaking body on the ground and braced for the impact.

“Jared!” Spade yelled.

Something long and heavy thudded into Jared’s back, knocking the breath from his lungs. He struggled reflexively, despite his better judgement telling him to lie still, and found himself able to kick his legs. Underneath him, Thalen was stirring and coughing in the churned-up sand. The stink of stomach juices still surrounded them.

Feet came running, not gutters this time but people. Jared looked up and realised he was facing the place where the wall had been. It was completely broken now as the rest of his old squad hurried towards then. The second gutter must have gone down without his even noticing.

“Jared, Thalen, are you all right?” Ewin demanded.

Jared tried to roll off Thalen, but the gutter’s neck was too heavy. “Feeling just a little squashed here.”

“All right. Yari, help me lift this. Beanhop and Spade, you drag these two out.”

The pressure on Jared’s back suddenly disappeared. Spade’s hands closed around Jared’s wrists, tugging him out from underneath. “You stink of gutter vomit… what did you _do?”_

“Yeah, about that…” The stomach acid was burning his skin, but that was nothing compared to the nausea. “I’m gonna be sick.”

She knelt beside him, stroking his horns as he threw up in the sand. “Are you OK?”

“Never better.” Jared leaned against Spade, trying to steady his stomach. “Aside from the vomit, the blood and the fact I’m gonna be covered with bruises in the morning.”

“Your arm… did it hit you?”

“What? Oh, yeah.” Jared stared down at his arm. Blood welled from between the bone plates and snaked down his wrist. “Good thing I got tough skin, huh?”

They looked over at Thalen. He was clinging limply to Yari, and Jared could see both brothers were shaking. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“What the _hell_ were you thinking?” Ewin’s voice thundered just as the gutters had done. Jared flinched, but for once Ewin’s ire was directed at someone else. “Breaking formation, trying to solo a gutter – you could have gotten yourself killed. You could have gotten _Jared_ killed. Do you not see Mik, what happened to her? What you did was incredibly foolish and it’s a miracle you’re still alive.” Thalen barely reacted, and Ewin’s expression suddenly changed. “Are you all right?”

“Think so… just hard to breathe.” Thalen squeezed his eyes shut for a second. “Got winded pretty bad when I landed.”

Next to Jared, Spade swore quietly. _“Freelancers.”_

The adrenaline was wearing off, and Jared’s movements suddenly felt a lot shakier. He grabbed Spade’s arm. “I need to get this stomach acid off me.”

The cold water was enough to shock the last of the adrenaline out of his system. He submerged himself for a second or two, trying not to think about how stupid he’d been, and allowed Spade to help him onto shore. Even without the acid, his arm was stinging. Rivulets of blood dripped into the sand. “Better?” he asked Spade.

“You got less vomit on you, that’s for sure.” Her face was still white. “I thought the gutter was going to kill you.”

“Honestly? Me too.”

Lekko came over with the first aid kit. “You’re bleeding,” she said briskly, and began to wrap a bandage around his arm.

“Is anyone else hurt?”

“Scrapes and bruises, and those are mostly from the caravan. Garru can be dangerous when they’re spooked… even tamed ones.” She tied the bandage. “You’re lucky you weren’t more seriously hurt.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I thought you were one of the more sensible ones.”

“I don’t believe in leaving team-members to die.”

The garru were slowly calming down, and the shaken merchants were returning them to the original formation. Lekko jerked her head towards them. “Come on, let’s go back to the caravan. We’ll need to get moving before other gutters smell what happened here.”

It looked as though the Tech Hunters had the same idea. Thalen was on his feet now, though he was still shaking, and he was leaning against Yari for support. Yari had his arm around his brother’s shoulder. “You’re an idiot, Tay.”

“I know,” Thalen said, sounding very subdued. “I’m sorry.”

“At least you’re all right…” Yari looked up, noticing Jared standing a short distance away. Hearing Yari trail off, Thalen looked up too, and then immediately turned his face away. Yari forced a smile. “You saved my little brother’s life. Thank you.”

Jared shrugged uncomfortably. It didn’t feel much like heroics. He was surprised Ewin hadn’t told him off for it yet. “I’m sorry if running off made things worse for everyone.”

“That’s not _your_ fault,” Yari said, with a pointed look at Thalen. “I’m just glad nobody was killed.”

“It’s OK,” Spade said conspiratorially, “our brothers are idiots.”

Kat was passing by on her way to the middle of the group. Jared saw her pause and mutter something to Thalen, before shaking her head and striding away.

“Well,” Spade whispered to Jared, “looks like she’s not impressed, anyway.”

The merchants didn’t seem impressed, either. Jared heard their low voices, and knew they were staring at him and Thalen. He flushed but tried to tune it out, focusing instead on the throbbing pain in his arm. He didn’t even notice Pia appear like a blonde ghost at his side, and he jumped when she spoke.

“I thought it was brave, what you and Thalen did,” she said. “Even if Ewin was angry.”

“Not brave. Stupid. I should be apologising to you.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because the line could have been broken when me and Thalen ran out of it to do our own thing. You could have been hurt because of other people being idiots…” He looked back, wondering where Rei was. “Is Rei OK?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. You really like Rei, don’t you?”

“I—” There weren’t many things he wasn’t willing to discuss with Pia, but _those_ kinds of feelings were definitely one of them. “Yeah.”

“She does like you back, you know.”

“I know.”

“But she isn’t your girlfriend yet?”

“No.” There were too many issues there, and only half of them were Rei’s. “I think we all have more important things to worry about right now.”

“Like beak things?”

“Uh… sure, like beak things.”

To Jared’s relief the incident with the gutters was not mentioned again, not by the squad or the caravan. He could tell Ewin was still angry, answering roughly whenever anyone asked him something, but over the course of the day that anger began to recede. As they passed out of Shem and into the large, lake-filled expanse of Flats Lagoon, he even began to point out some of the geography for the benefit of those who had not been there before.

“If you look closely at the water, you might see some big, old-looking structures in there,” he said. “The water level used to be much higher here. Where we’re walking now would have been completely submerged… and those metal things were a form of water-transport.”

“Boats?” Jared said, distantly remembering something Iyo had once mentioned.

“Boats, that sounds like the right word. You see them in all kinds of odd places around here. Sunk at the bottom of lakes, lying at ground level… even stuck on the tops of high rocks. However old they are, the world’s certainly changed a lot since those days.”

“So where’s the actual town of Flats Lagoon?” said Kat.

“Not far at all. You’ll be able to see it soon.”

“Can’t wait,” Spade said distantly. Jared glanced at her and did a double-take; she was chewing hard on her lip, staring at the horizon.

“What’s wrong?” he said in sudden fear, thinking she might have seen more gutters, or land-bats. He wasn’t at all sure they were in a good position to take on anything else, even though their group was large. “Are you OK?”

“Oh… yeah, fine. Just…” She lowered her voice. “Just been thinking about the casino last night.”

“What about it?”

“Well, you know that guy we borrowed money off so we could gamble…”

Jared swore. Borsa had been the last thing on his mind. “We didn’t pay him back.”

“No… I don’t remember much of what happened after we inhaled all that smoke, but if Kat had our money…”

“Well,” said Jared after a pause, “I guess he’s not getting his money back, so…”

“… so we can never go back to the smugglers bar,” Spade finished.

The twins stared at one another for a second.

“Let’s not tell Ewin about that,” Spade said.

“Or Kat,” Jared added, and the two of them spent the last leg of their journey in unified silence.


	11. Faith

Valtena’s initial jubilance at the Okranite victory had been a short-lived one. Ava wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she’d overheard the guards’ conversation, but she guessed at a few days. Those few days had been enough to take Valtena from praising Okran — an incessant praise that had made her long to sew her ears up just to get away from it — to gloomy despondency.

His silence was almost as bad as his noise. Ava had tried for a conversation, realising how much she missed human contact, and had been met with invisible walls. She wondered what he could be thinking… was he contemplating? Had he stopped caring? Was he detaching himself from the harsh reality of their prison, as Ava so often did? Again, she felt a little twinge of pity. He must have really set his hopes on help from an external source, whether that source was Okran or simply his followers.

 _No help is coming,_ she told herself. It was impossible to picture a world of freedom, even if Valtena’s hypothetical rescuers launched a mission to get him back. They would kill her, or leave her to rot in her cage, or have her sent to Rebirth along with Ruka. Ava just hoped that if it came to that they’d put her out of her misery, rather than exchange her life in Tengu’s Vault for another life of cages and chains.

Whatever the future held, Ava couldn’t shake the feeling that her days in Tengu’s Vault were coming to an end. The guards’ twitchiness only grew by the day, and she’d heard tensions boil over a few times. A prisoner looking at them funny, talking back or even snoring too loudly had all led to some explosive reactions. Ava hadn’t been the prisoner in those scenarios, but she was sure it was only a matter of time — especially now her cellblock was being properly patrolled.

The guards may not have liked going into the darkened cellblock, but the Warden had evidently given orders that they were to keep a closer eye on their most important prisoner. Ava had heard plenty of footfall in the past few days. Sometimes the guards carried lanterns that were dim yet dazzling, and her stinging eyes would take the rest of the day to readjust. She’d gotten pretty good at sensing when the marching boots were about to stop at the cellblock entrance, and would roll into a ball with her back turned and her hair over her face. The tactic had proved efficient in avoiding both blindness and the interest of the guards.

The piercing lanternlight was just disappearing around the corner when Ava lifted her head. She blinked slowly, trying to shake the hair out of her face. When that didn’t work, she brushed it back awkwardly with her hands. Her hair was horribly matted, a bird’s nest that stuck up in various directions with a few heavier clumps near the front. She was half-tempted to try and comb those clumps with her fingers, but she knew it would do no good — nothing short of a haircut was going to fix them.

She wondered what she looked like and realised she didn’t really care. The guards were gone, which was what mattered. Ava closed her eyes, letting out a breath. The cuffs jangled as she clasped her hands together.

Praying. She’d tried it many times from within these walls, and every time had felt like a failure. Just a stupid habit, a stupid habit she’d kept even though it clearly did no good… She might have given it up altogether had it not been for Luquin convincing her to keep at it. It was funny, that. Luquin had not struck her as a religious man.

With the cellblock empty aside from herself and the brooding Inquisitor, Ava decided it was safe to try again. It wasn’t as if she had a lot to do, and she had even less to lose. _Please, Okran. I don’t know what I’m asking you for anymore. I don’t think I know who you are, and I don’t think I know who I am. But maybe you do. And the priests always taught you were the last refuge of the desperate, so here I am. I’m desperate._

It was a wavering prayer, the prayer of a woman who doubted but longed not to. Ava kept her eyes closed, her hair falling back over her face as she lowered it. She resisted the urge to touch it and kept her hands clasped, squeezing them together as if she was holding on to herself for reassurance.

_Okran, Lord of Light, protector of the innocent…_

Something tugged at her mind, like a little flame that had flared in the darkness. Ava’s heart jumped. A sense of Okran’s presence, something she hadn’t felt since being arrested and locked in Tengu’s Vault. He _was_ there.

_Please deliver us from this place. However you want to do it. But please, don’t leave us to suffer…_

“Hey! Stop that!” The bars rang out with the sound of furious knuckles. Ava jerked back, nearly losing her balance. Light. Blinding light, even through her closed eyelids. Light she really should have noticed, but she’d been too distracted… She screwed up her face as her retinas screamed.

“What did I do?” she said, and immediately regretted the question. The cage door was thrown open, keys clattering and banging as if caught in a storm, and a strong hand yanked her out of the cage. She was so focused on trying to work out what had offended the guard that she barely registered the stinging impact of the floor.

“You know what you did.” One of the guards pushed the lantern into her face. “Filthy Okranite.”

She must have been praying out loud, or at the very least they’d seen her clasped hands and assumed that was what she’d been doing. “Are you really that afraid of what I’ll ask Okran to do?”

Someone backhanded her across the face. The edge of the vambrace landed hard, a sharp slice against her cheek. Ava’s eyelids twitched as her head moved, sending more searing pain into her retinas. She hit the ground again with a sprawl.

“Don’t think your proximity to the Inquisitor will protect you. Just because _he’s_ an important hostage it doesn’t mean you are.” A female hand grabbed her bloodied face, cruel sharp fingernails trying to prise her eye open. “That being said, rumour has it the Holy Nation doesn’t like you very much. Maybe we could offer _you_ to them as a bargaining chip.”

“You wouldn’t do it. I’m too much fun for you.”

The fingers pushed upwards on her eyelid, and Ava’s eye rolled involuntarily towards the light. She almost screamed but caught herself just in time. Okran was still there, watching her. Bright halos of light danced in front of her vision like beautiful holy flames.

“I won’t stop,” she gasped. “Even if you silence my voice, I’ll pray in my head. You can’t stop Okran, and you’ll never stop his followers either.”

“Urgh.” The woman dropped her on the floor. “Someone else put her back in the cell. I’m going to scrub my hands.”

The cage was locked behind her, but Ava stayed still until she could be sure the guards had left. Her eyes still hurt, especially the left where the guard had forced the lids apart. The darkness continued to flicker with bright holy fire, but Okran was gone. She slumped on the floor, laughing softly to herself.

“So you do have faith,” Valtena said.

“He was there.” Wasn’t that the sort of thing people experienced when they were close to death, the last trick of a frightened brain? But the whole experience felt so beautiful Ava didn’t want to consider insanity of impending death as options. “I felt him.”

“What was it like?” His voice was urgent and not even quiet, like he no longer cared if the guards overheard. “Tell me.”

She answered as best she could, but the experience — as vivid as it had been to her at the time — was quickly fading from memory as if it were a dream. Still, dream or not, Valtena seemed to savour it like a fine meal. “You showed faith in the face of physical danger and that’s why he revealed himself to you.”

“Perhaps.” The afterglow of the lantern — that bright holy fire — was still burning, and it was enough to make her nauseous. She briefly considered finding her bucket but it hadn’t been emptied recently, and she wasn’t at all sure she could stomach the stink of human waste on top of that. “I don’t know… but maybe praying isn’t as useless here as I’d thought.”

“Clearly you’re a child of Okran.” He sounded begrudgingly impressed. “I’ve never known a woman to experience him like that.”

Ava curled into herself, nursing her churning stomach. Whatever the truth may have been, perhaps it was easier to just believe the religious explanation. With the guards ready to hand out beatings at a moment’s notice, she felt like it would be better for the both of them if they had something they could continue to believe in.

* * *

Even though she’d visited many places since leaving the Swamp, Kat had never been anywhere quite like Flats Lagoon.

She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been expecting. Jared’s descriptions of Flats Lagoon had been vague ones and, with most cities looking alike, it hadn’t even occurred to her to press him for more details. Now they were almost there, however, she suddenly understood what Spade had meant about it being built over a cesspool.

“The town,” she said aloud, as she struggled to articulate her surprise. “It’s on stilts.”

Ewin chuckled. “I suppose you could describe it like that.” He indicated the old metal platform that towered above them. “Remember what I said about this place once being underwater? What you’re looking at was most likely a rig… or perhaps a port.”

Kat wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so tiny. The town sprawled across the rig high above their heads, strangely new and yet built on the foundations of something much more ancient. Each of the rig’s supports was so wide they could all hold hands and still not fit around it. Kat shivered a little to think of the scale of it all.

“We still have a bit of a climb ahead of us.” Ewin indicated the town steps. They were steep and many. “If anyone needs to take it slow at any point, just give a shout.”

“You coming, Kat?” Spade called from the front of the caravan. They’d already started to ascend the town steps. “Or are you just gonna stand there and admire it?”

“Oh.” Kat gave herself a little shake; she’d faced far worse than a few steps. “Sorry.”

The garru seemed equally daunted, and the merchants had to gently coax them to get them to move. Kat tried to catch up with Spade and fell, scraping her palms and knees across the metal. It was far more slippery than she’d realised.

“Are you all right?” Yari said.

Kat nodded. “It’s fine. Go on ahead.”

Ewin had heard Kat’s surprised yelp and doubled back to help her. He winced when he saw her slumped on the step. “Ah. Give me your bag.”

“It’s OK,” Kat said weakly, but she tugged the straps off her shoulders all the same. The bag was heavy, too heavy to pass to Ewin… how had she been able to walk at all? The weight dragged at her arm and she dropped it before Ewin could grab it. When she turned her head to watch it bump back down the steps, she realised why Ewin had winced. The steps were smeared with crimson blood from the very base right up to where she was sitting now.

“I’ll get the bag,” Ewin said firmly, as Kat tried to stand.

When the bag had been retrieved and Ewin and Lekko had helped Kat up from her step, they proceeded into the town as a group. Kat realised she was leaning most of her weight against Lekko and, judging from Lekko’s own stumbling, that weight was more than she was equipped to handle. Kat tried to apologise but the words came out as a slur of gibberish. Lekko hooked an arm around her to keep her upright.

“It’s all right, Kat. We’ll be sitting down soon.”

They said goodbye to the caravan just inside the town’s main gates. Ewin and the head merchant stepped away from the others to discuss something. The distance wasn’t great enough to obscure their slightly raised voices. Eventually Ewin walked away, shaking his head, and the merchant led the rest of his crew away.

“What was all that about?” said Beanhop.

“Didn’t want to pay us the full amount,” Ewin replied, “on account of the potential endangerment to their animals, lives and cargo.” He looked like he wanted to say something more but relented. Kat, who had far less self-restraint, found herself scowling at Thalen. _Jared could have died saving his sorry arse._ There was another reason too, one she’d never have admitted to in a million years, and that was the disappointment that he’d failed to live up to her expectations.

“Potential endangerment,” Spade muttered. “They’re all still alive, the cargo wasn’t damaged, we fought the gutters for them. Sounds to me like they’re just trying to pull a fast one.”

“Be that as it may,” said Ewin, “they weren’t very happy.”

Spade scowled. “They could have said something on the journey across. Of course half of them were fucking bugmen… what’s with that look, Beanhop? You know I’m not talking about you.”

“How would you like it if I called the Shek a bunch of boneheads?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“So there’s a squad-house here we can use?” Jared said, as Spade and Beanhop bickered.

“Let’s hope so. Yehanan is on town council, she’ll have a set of keys… Let’s hope she’s in.”

It was late in the day, getting towards evening, but the floor of the rig felt hot under Kat’s bare feet. She winced, wishing she was able to move faster, and clung to Lekko’s shoulder. “Which d’you think came first, Lekko? The rig or the city?”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know much about cities… but they spring up in all kinds of places.”

They stopped outside a storm-house, which Kat assumed to belong to Yehanan. There was nothing especially remarkable about it, aside from a rusty sign affixed to the door. The words _Open for Patients_ were just visible in flaking paint. Ewin held up a hand to silence Spade and Beanhop, and knocked on the door.

The knock was met with a little pause. Then came the sound of movement from within, and the door opened to reveal a brusque-looking Greenlander woman of similar age to Ewin. Her greying dark hair was tied into a ponytail, and her eyes were steely. She was holding a small crossbow in one hand, but to Kat’s relief, she wasn’t pointing it at any of them. Presumably this was Yehanan.

“Ewin.” The little tensions in Yehanan’s brow disappeared at the sight of him. “I was beginning to wonder if we’d ever see you here again. Please, come in.”

The house was clearly lived-in, but incredibly tidy. Books sat on shelves with their spines facing out, every crate and storage box was neatly labelled, and the floor had been recently swept. Kat lingered in the doorway, but Spade pushed her forward. She thought she saw Yehanan’s eyes narrow at her bloody feet.

“First time you’ve greeted me with a crossbow,” Ewin said.

“Can’t be too careful these days.” Yehanan didn’t smile. “Not after World’s End…” She put her hands on her hips, surveying the group. “Well, aren’t you a miserable-looking bunch? Something happen?”

“Just gutters causing problems,” Ewin said wearily.

“I see. Sit yourselves down.”

There weren’t quite enough chairs to go around. Mik and the members of Kat’s group sat on the chairs, while Beanhop and the two mercenaries took the floor. Yehanan, meanwhile, was staring down Ewin, who was leaning uncomfortably against the wall.

“So you’ve heard about World’s End,” he said finally.

“Of course we’ve heard about World’s End,” Yehanan snapped, as if Ewin had somehow invited her anger. “We all have. You know, people were saying you were up there when it burned.”

“It was still standing when we left. We were… somewhat delayed in our return.” Ewin glanced at Mik, who rubbed self-consciously at her bandages. “She’d lost a lot of blood, so we didn’t go back to World’s End immediately.”

Yehanan moved across the room, prodding at Mik’s armless shoulder. “How did this happen?”

“Gutter nest,” Mik mumbled.

“I see. You seem to have a knack for finding gutter nests, Mik. Were you navigating people _out_ of danger, or into it?”

“Oh boy,” Thalen muttered from the floor.

Ewin was bristling. “Are you suggesting my squad is reckless?”

Kat shrank back a little in her seat. Ewin and Yehanan were staring each other down, a silent battle of wills. To Kat’s surprise it was Yehanan who backed down. “How are you doing for first aid supplies?”

“We’re low on painkillers,” Ewin said. “Do you have anything?”

“Asking a doctor if she has painkillers is like asking a drunk if he has alcohol.” She bustled to the back of the room and returned with a small bottle. “Speaking of which, don’t take with alcohol, only take as directed and don’t abuse it. I know what you lot—” She stopped, catching Ewin’s eye. “Anything else?”

“Another first aid kit might be useful. As you can see, we have a few other injuries.”

“Yes,” Yehanan said, with a sideways glance at Kat, “I can certainly see that.” She took a first aid kit out of one of the neatly labelled boxes and dumped it on the table. “I’m a business, not a charity. Two hundred cats.”

“And one last thing.” Ewin handed her the money. “Do you have the key to one of the squad-houses?”

“They’ve mostly been claimed… but I think we have one left. I’ll find you the key.” She went off somewhere and came back half a minute later, dropping a ring of keys into Ewin’s outstretched palm. “Big key opens the squad-house, little key opens the bathhouse. And please, for the love of Okran, use them both. It smells like sweat and vomit in here.”

“You can blame Jared for the vomit,” Spade said quickly. “He’s the one who took a shower in a gutter’s stomach juices.”

“A gutter’s…” Yehanan just stared. “You didn’t stop him, Ewin? You’re far too soft on your squad. Small wonder they’re so undisciplined. Getting drunk. Picking fights. Doing things that are borderline illegal… Speaking of which, what happened to your redheads?”

“We’re going,” Ewin said bluntly, putting a hand on Jared’s shoulder and ushering the rest of them to the door. Yehanan did not look sorry to see the back of them.

“What was all that about?” Kat whispered to the two mercenaries, trying to take her mind off the pain in her feet.

“Ewin takes it personally when an outsider suggests his squad isn’t perfect,” Yari answered in an undertone. “And _outsider_ includes the three of us. So, better be careful who’s around if you have any criticism.”

“You and Thalen don’t count as part of his squad?”

“Hah, no,” Thalen said. “We’re just the hired grunts.”

The squad-house was a large building, certainly large enough to comfortably fit a dozen or so people. As the door opened, however, Kat got the sense that it had not been used for a long time. The air inside was dusty and the place had an eerie atmosphere of abandonment to it. Still, Kat was glad to see there were enough beds for all of them, as well as a mess-table, a stove and a storage cabinet. Ewin lifted a bowl down off one of the shelves and grimaced at the dust.

“We’ll need to get this place cleaned,” he said, “but not tonight.”

“So these squad houses… they’re like bases that you Tech Hunters use, right?” Lekko asked.

“I suppose so. I’ve never been so fond of them myself. Far too much upkeep for a squad that’s on the move so much. But they’re good for the less active squads… A lot of captains use theirs as a training barracks.”

Spade shuddered as she approached the beds. “Not a fan of barracks.”

“No, I can’t imagine you would be.” Ewin was emptying the beds and piling the retrieved technology into a corner. “I recommend taking a bath _before_ you sit on anything.”

“But we don’t have spare clothes,” Pia objected. She was already sitting on one of the beds, bouncing herself up and down. “I like these beds. They’re comfier than the ones at the waystations… comfier than my bed at Flotsam, come to think of it.”

Ewin was looking over the loot. “We’ll see what we can sell from this stuff in the morning. Then we’ll see about making ourselves look more presentable… and this place look more habitable.”

“Money going to be OK?” said Beanhop.

“Might be a little tight for a while, but we’ll manage.”

Kat looked over at the twins, wondering how much money they’d won the previous night. To her surprise, they were already asleep. Jared was sprawled facedown on one of the beds, his long limbs dangling over the sides. He looked like he’d hit the bed and completely crashed out. Spade didn’t look like she’d move for a horde of angry beak things. Kat took Rei by the arm and gently led her across the room to lie down.

“Um, I’ve been wondering,” Yari said. _“We’ve_ been wondering. Thalen and I…”

Ewin looked up. “I haven’t forgotten you’re yet to be paid, if that’s what you were going to ask.”

“Not quite.” Yari blushed. “I was going to ask if we could stay here for a few days. Just while we find some other work. I realise there were a few issues today…”

“Mik would probably be dead if you and Thalen hadn’t been with us, and so would the twins. You boys are welcome to stay for more than a few days if that’s what you need.”

Yari sagged in relief. “Thank you.”

“What about us?” Kat said. It had suddenly occurred to her that now they were all safe, Ewin might be less keen to have _outsiders_ around. “I mean, we aren’t Tech Hunters or freelancers…”

“You’re friends of the twins, and you’re in no state to be doing much at all. Speaking of which, you’re still bleeding. Take the first aid kit.”

Kat wanted to take the time to clean out her various cuts and scrapes, but she soon realised she was too tired to care. She settled instead for picking the worst of the grit out of her hands and feet, and tying bandages to keep the blood off the bedclothes.

“I can help,” Lekko offered, but her own movements were sluggish. Kat shook her head.

“It’s OK. Get some sleep. It can be sorted in the morning.”

When Kat finally laid her head down it was with a small groan of relief, but she refused to believe that their journey could truly be over. There had been far too many false endings along the way — Flotsam, Admag… even Bark, if she counted her journey as starting with the manhunters.

 _And Flats Lagoon might not want us here, if they ever find out about World’s End._ Kat shuddered, burying herself in the thick, slightly dusty blankets, and tried not to sneeze. She fell asleep with the dust and fibres from the blanket tickling her nose and the back of her throat, and her dreams were similarly suffocating.

But for once, there was no fire.


	12. Etiquette

The bathhouse smelled awful, damp and neglect and bodily fluids rising through the slats in the drains. Jared, all too aware of his own stench, wrinkled his nose and tried his best to ignore the olfactory overload.

It was a small, private bathhouse, nothing like the one in World’s End. Jared had been oddly surprised when clean water had spilled from the spigot and into the tub. It was just unfortunate that the water heater was — to use Lekko’s own words — tetchy. Jared hesitated but took the plunge all the same, hoping the water wasn’t as cold as his tentative finger had suggested.

The water was _freezing._ Jared surfaced with a splutter, sending half the tub’s contents shooting over the side. It splashed into the drainage area, dripping through the grated floor. If Spade had overheard, she’d have laughed and called him a baby. Jared was glad she’d still been asleep when he’d left.

He only managed a few minutes in the bath before giving in and grabbing the towel. It wasn’t much of a towel, more of a rag, but it was better than sitting around shivering. The cold had never bothered him this much, back in the days when he’d been stronger and healthier. As he stared at his clothes, still stained with sweat and blood and vomit, and tried to bring himself to put them back on, the door opened and someone came into the room.

 _Shit._ The bathhouse was a communal one, at least as far as their squad-house was concerned. There were four baths, each hidden behind their own screens, but as luck would have it the other person was heading for the same one he’d chosen. He tucked the towel around his waist just as a small figure with glowing yellow eyes wandered in.

“Shit, sorry!” The eyes hastily averted themselves, and Kat retreated to where she couldn’t see him. “I didn’t check… didn’t realise anyone else was awake.”

“You’re having a bath?” Jared said, scrambling into his discarded clothes.

“No, I’m locking myself in here so I can scream into the void.” Behind the partition, he felt those glowing eyes roll back. “Yeah, I’m having a bath.”

“Honestly? I wouldn’t bother.” Satisfied he was sufficiently decent, Jared stepped out of the washing area. “No hot water.”

Kat’s face fell. “Any soap?”

“A tiny bit, but it doesn’t even lather. I don’t think this place has been used in years.”

“That’s a shame. I smell horrible.”

“This bathhouse smells horrible too.” Jared opened the door. “Forget the bath. Come with me.”

“Why? Where are we going?”

He grinned. “Magical mystery tour.”

“You know my feet are still sliced up, right?” But she followed him all the same. “I keep forgetting you’ve been here before.”

“Only a few times, and a few years ago at that. Never been to the squad-house, obviously…”

It was sunny outside, and Jared could already see a rising heat haze. “If you look left, you’ll be able to see the lagoon. Sometimes, the ballsier Tech Hunters jump off the side of the rig into the water. Wouldn’t recommend it, even on a hot day. Too much sewage.”

“Jared, I don’t think now’s a good time for a tour. My feet are burning. I’m going back.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jared pointed to a shop up ahead. “Wouldn’t be a magical mystery tour without a destination, would it?”

She sighed but followed him all the same. Her expression changed as they went inside, her annoyance replaced by puzzlement. “What are we doing in here?”

“My friend here,” Jared explained to the trader, clapping a hand on Kat’s shoulder, “needs a pair of boots.”

“Certainly.” The trader dived behind his counter and started pulling up wooden boxes. “We have quite the selection.”

Kat was staring at Jared. “I don’t have any money.”

“Who do you think’s paying for it, you noodle?”

 _“Noodle?”_ Kat said, but her expression changed again as she realised what Jared was saying. “It’s fine, honestly. You don’t have to buy me things.”

“Should I put these away then?” said the trader a little sniffily, indicating the boxes.

“No! I mean, I – I’ll have a look.”

Jared, whose idea of shopping was to grab the first thing that vaguely suited the purpose, soon regretted his generous impulse. As other customers came in, Kat retreated to a corner of the room, where she spent a good twenty minutes agonising over the various boots that actually fitted her. “I like the metal toecaps on these… but these ones here have thicker soles…”

“Do you think you’ll ever need metal toecaps?” Jared said.

“I dunno. Maybe if manhunters try and grab me again. I can kick them and it’ll hurt.” She opened another box, her eyes suddenly widening. “Oh… these ones have both.” She tried them on, a huge grin creeping over her face. “They’re so _comfortable._ Look, they’re fluffy on the inside.”

“Gorillo fur,” the trader said. “Fifteen thousand cats.”

“Oh.” Kat’s shoulders slumped. “Never mind. They’re expensive.”

“I’ll get them for you,” Jared said.

“Wait. How do you have fifteen thousand cats to spend on a pair of boots? How much did you _win?”_

“Uh, double that figure you just said. And that was for each of us.” As Kat’s eyes widened, Jared added, “You didn’t count?”

“Hey, I wasn’t sober either. Shit, I can’t believe you scammed the Grayflayers out of _sixty thousand cats.”_

“You know, I’m starting to think you don’t want those boots.”

“I do! I just…” Kat’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Why are you being nice, anyway? Are you trying to bribe me?”

“Kral’s fucking horns. I’m not trying to bribe you. I’m trying to say sorry, OK?” Jared rubbed the sides of his head where horn met flesh. “I put you in a really awkward position the other night. I know you and Thalen saw us long before Ewin turned up. And you shouldn’t have had to pick a side or hide anything from anyone… shit, we’re doing enough of that as it is. Besides, I haven’t forgotten what you did at the waystation. I nearly died and you protected us all, so… thank you.”

“Oh, right.” Kat looked a little ashamed. “But Ewin will ask questions if he sees I have these.”

Jared shrugged. “If he asks, I’ll come clean. The rest of the money can go to the squad coffers or something. I don’t know about Spade, but I don’t feel comfortable having all these cats when Ewin’s spent so much money on our account.”

“Miss,” the trader said with a scowl, “if you’re not going to buy those boots, please take your dirty feet out of them.”

Kat and Jared looked at each other for a second.

“What’s it to be?” said Jared.

“All right then.” Kat smiled. “Thanks, Jared.” To the trader she added, “Do these come with the box?”

“No,” the trader said shortly, as Jared paid. “And I suppose you’ll be leaving those boxes piled up over there?”

“Oops. I’ll sort them out, promise.”

“While she’s doing that,” Jared said, hoping to divert some of the trader’s ire, “do you sell any clothes that might fit either of us?”

They ended up buying more than Jared had bargained for, but luckily the clothes were significantly cheaper than the boots had been. As they left the armourer’s with their purchases, Jared pointed to a small building with a hammered iron sign. The sign itself was a crude depiction of a naked human man pouring a jug of water over his head. “You still want that bath?”

Kat looked tempted but shook her head. “I can’t ask you to—”

“It’ll be like, fifty cats each. And I still have about fifteen hundred left.”

“Oh. All right, then.”

The bathhouse was significantly nicer than their own, and had none of the bad smells Jared associated with the lagoon. The grating was more comfortable to walk on and small enough that valuables wouldn’t fall through it. Jared looked through the grate but all he saw underneath was the tilting floor of a proper drainage system. The air in the bathhouse was warm and smelled of clean steam. “Definitely worth the cats, if you ask me.”

“Can I offer a locker for your possessions?” the attendant said. “Those boots, perhaps?”

Jared chuckled; Kat was clinging to them resolutely, like a child clinging to a doll. “They’ll be safe enough with me,” she said.

“Of course, miss,” the attendant said, though her snooty eyebrows suggested _miss_ was not what she had wanted to say. “Right this way.”

Kat glanced at Jared. “I’m gonna take my time. Don’t wait for me.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll be done here first.”

Aside from the sting of the gutter injury, the hot soapy water was at least some relief from the stresses of the past few weeks… in truth, the past year. Jared knew he ought to be more thankful that he and Spade were in a position to enjoy freedom’s little luxuries, but whilst the water was good at soothing his physical aches and pains, it couldn’t untwist the heavy little knot at the base of his stomach. He hadn’t forgotten the way Spade had backed away from him in Shem. He hadn’t forgotten the look on Yehanan’s face when she’d seen the state they were both in.

Jared leaned back against the tub, listening. The place was full of people, laughing and joking to each other through the privacy screens. Most of them were probably Tech Hunters. Jared found himself wishing he could join in, slipping into conversations about expeditions long past and squads long disbanded. But that wasn’t his world anymore, and even if he returned to tech hunting as if nothing had happened, it would never be his world again.

In spite of his unwelcome thoughts, the bathhouse was still a pleasant enough experience. By the time Jared was dried off and dressed he felt cleaner, warmer and far more relaxed than he’d been in the private bathhouse. Part of him wanted to find out if Kat was still about or if she’d left, but with the way the attendant was looking down the length of her nose at him — or more accurately _up_ the length of her nose — he decided it was better not to loiter. Just to get home and—

“Jared.” Ewin waylaid him almost as soon as he’d stepped out of the bathhouse. For a wild second Jared thought he’d been lying in wait. “So that’s why your bed was empty. Where’s Kat?”

“I don’t know,” Jared said truthfully. “Last I saw she was in the bathhouse.”

Ewin looked him up and down for a second, taking in his new clothes. “I did wonder about the other night. The casino area was certainly the one part of the bar where the most hash was being smoked.”

“Ah yes.” Jared smiled at Ewin in the hopes of disarming him. “Being high was an unintentional side effect.”

“I imagine the money was a very intentional one.”

Jared sighed and handed his winnings over. “It’s what’s left. You should take it.”

“Keep hold of it.” Ewin gently pushed the money back. “I’ve just managed to sell almost everything we pulled out of the ruin, so we have enough to last us a good while. You and Spade need at least a little financial independence… just as long as it doesn’t bring about any trouble.”

“Oh, right.” Jared pocketed the cats and flashed a grin. “Thanks, Ewin.”

“It doesn’t mean I approve of your gambling.”

“I know.” Jared rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a slightly sore roughness where he’d caught the sun. “I’m sorry. It was kind of stupid.”

“At least you can see that.” Ewin’s expression became more serious. “I don’t know if you’re thrill-seeking or just being reckless, but this isn’t a good way to deal with your problems. Gambling, charging at gutters…”

“I’ve always done that shit, Ewin, and you weren’t telling me it was a coping mechanism before.”

“Language. And in the latter instance, I realise you were trying to protect Thalen. The way you’d have protected your squad in the old days.”

“This isn’t about Koel.”

“I never said it was.”

Jared scowled. “But you’re still saying I’m broken, right? You’re analysing everything I’m doing, telling me it’s my way of _dealing with things,_ just because I took a year off from the Tech Hunters. If we were having this conversation a year ago you wouldn’t be—”

“Jared, I’m not trying to pick a fight with you here. All I’m suggesting is for you to be more careful and to take your current condition into account. You aren’t physically recovered yet, and it’ll be some time before you are.” As Jared’s scowl deepened he added, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You know where I am if you want to talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk. I don’t need to talk.”

“And you don’t have to.” By this point they were back at the squad-house. Ewin paused outside the door. “Just… try not to be too hard on yourself, Jared. Koel wouldn’t want that… and I don’t think your sister will, either.”

To Jared’s relief, they left the conversation at the door. As they went inside, Jared noticed everyone but Rei and Thalen was now awake. Now he’d had a chance to get clean, he realised just how bad a dusty room full of unwashed bodies could smell. He looked around for Kat, but she had to still be at the bathhouse.

“And where have you been?” Spade said.

“Making myself smell less like gutter vomit. And shopping, apparently.” He passed her a bundle of clothes. “Since you’re the same size as me, just a bit more girl-shaped, I got you something. They’re designed for Shek too, so you don’t need to rip any holes.”

“I’d give you a hug, but I think you could do without it right now.” She looked down at the clothes in her hands and smiled a lopsided little smile. “Guess you’re hinting I should have a bath, huh?”

“Just a little.” She was filthy, covered in pale dust and the kind of grime that only seemed to acquire naturally. “Actually, I have a better hint than that. Our bathhouse is crap. There’s a proper one just out that way, not that expensive” — he gestured in its vague direction — “and it’s really fucking good.”

“I’ll try it out.” She looked over her shoulder. “Hey! Pia! Drifter!”

 _“Drifter,”_ Lekko muttered.

“Drifter. Hat lady. Lekko! D’you want to help me find this bathhouse Jared mentioned?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure. By the way Jared, you haven’t seen Kat have you? She was gone when I woke up…”

“I already pointed her in the direction of the bathhouse. She’s probably still soaking herself.”

“As long as she’s OK,” Lekko said, looking relieved. “I was just a bit worried she might have wandered into trouble.”

“Hard to get into trouble when you’re surrounded by soap bubbles,” Jared said, but something in Lekko’s manner gave him pause. “You know, Lekko, I’m starting to think you’ve adopted our little swamp-lander.”

Lekko’s cheeks flushed. “I’ve not adopted anyone.”

“Hey, there’s no problem with it.” Jared thought back to all the times Ewin had been a restraining influence on him and Spade. “People looking out for each other, that’s not a bad thing.”

Lekko put on her hat, tugging the brim low. “If we’re done talking about this, I want a bath.”

The three of them left. Jared looked over to where Rei was lying, the blankets tangled in her fists. Part of him wanted to get up and go over to her, but he knew she’d panic if she woke suddenly to find him nearby. Instead he sat on his own bed, staring down at his hands and wondering if Ewin might have had a point.

“Maybe Yehanan can help her,” Mik said quietly.

Jared jumped a little. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“So? I’ll rest here.” She sat on the bed next to him. “If anyone in Flats can help, it’ll be Yehanan. Ewin already told me he’ll be getting her here to check on me. You can ask her if she’ll look at Rei too.”

“I don’t know.” The little knot in his stomach expanded slightly. “I’m not even sure if medicine can help. And Yehanan’s a stranger. I don’t think Rei will want to talk to her.”

“If we tell her Yehanan’s a doctor, she might.”

“No.” Jared had met Yehanan before, and something in her manner invited trust, but there were always things that felt too personal to divulge. “I don’t think it’ll work like that. Shit like this, it’s not some battle-wound. It’s… deeper than that. No Shek wants to look weak.”

At that moment the door opened and Kat came in. She looked sleepy but content, dressed in a clean vest and a baggy pair of trousers that had been tucked into her new boots. Now all the dirt and sand was out of her hair, Jared could see how much it had grown; it looked more like a traveller’s haircut than a slave’s. The brand on her cheek had scabbed over and was healing. “What are we talking about?”

She’d worried enough about Rei on the journey over; she deserved the break. Jared shook his head. “Nothing much. How was the bath?”

“Pretty relaxing. I’m really tired now, though.” She sat on the end of her bed and started unlacing her boots. “All I want to do is sleep until next year.”

“Next year isn’t far away,” Ewin said. “Just a few days to go.”

Jared tried to think back to the previous new year. He must have spent it shackled in the stone camp. “Well, if there was ever a good time to celebrate still being alive, it’d be now. Shit, we could all use a party.”

“With the situation with World’s End, there may not _be_ much of a party.” Ewin gave Jared a hard look. Jared tried to keep the guilt off his face. “The other captains will undoubtedly be trying to work out whether Flats Lagoon is in any danger… Speaking of which, perhaps you and your friends will be able to help us with that. You went up to World’s End after it was destroyed.”

“Yeah,” said Jared, not liking where this was going.

“But you have no idea who might have attacked it? You didn’t see any bodies that didn’t belong to Tech Hunters? Nobody in paladin armour?”

“We had uh, a few other things on our minds.” Jared glanced at Kat for help, but none was forthcoming. _Great, thanks for that._ “You know, like seeing Iyo dead and the University in ruins.”

“I understand it must have been a shock.”

“I doubt the Tech Hunters are being targeted.” Jared shrugged. “World’s End was always in a risky position. You said so yourself.”

“This is true,” said Ewin, a little sadly. “Finch was convinced they were doing enough to convince the Holy Nation they were all good Okran-worshippers… I did try and tell him the façade would fall apart the moment someone stepped through the gates, but he didn’t want to hear it. Insisted the Holy Nation had no reason to come to World’s End… Well, I’m sure you won’t be the last group to go to World’s End. Flats will send out a squad to investigate.”

Jared dug his fingernails into the mattress. _Bodies._ He hadn’t been lying when he’d said they’d had other things on their minds — he honestly couldn’t remember whether he’d seen samurai among the fallen. Maybe someone else would piece it all together, and their whole web of deceit would come unravelled. What would the Tech Hunters do? Would they blame them? Forgive them? Jared couldn’t see forgiveness being on the table… even to be _in_ directly responsible for a massacre was still a terrible thing…

“What do you think will happen?” Yari said.

“If it’s the Holy Nation? We’ll just have to stay out of their territory from now on. It’ll make going north a lot more difficult, but at least Flats Lagoon and uh… Black Scratch won’t be in any danger.”

“And if it’s not the Holy Nation?”

Ewin’s eyebrows rose. “Who would it be if it wasn’t?”

“I don’t know… the United Cities, maybe?”

Jared’s stomach dropped. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kat stiffen. Yari, clearly unaware of the tension he’d just caused, was fiddling with his rattan hat. “Not that there’s much reason for the United Cities to attack World’s End, unless it was some kind of vengeance for something the Tech Hunters have done.”

“If it’s the United Cities, we’ll be in a lot of trouble,” Ewin said, but he shook his head. “There’s no reason for the United Cities to attack World’s End. The Holy Nation is the most likely culprit… I’m sure this will make things a little awkward for myself and any other Okranites living in Flats Lagoon, but it’s a better alternative than having enemies just a few territories away.”

Jared slowly released his grip on the bed. The weight of their enormous lie was growing heavier with each retelling.

* * *

Of all the tests Lord Aramid had assigned Marisa over the month or so she had been a part of his household, she had never thought dressing herself would be one of them.

There had been times during Marisa’s employ, both with Lady Sanda and Lord Aramid, that she’d thought she might have caught a true glimpse into the privileged lives the nobles led. Those brief little moments of epiphany had always left her feeling cultured, as if she was somehow a part of that noble lifestyle too. Not just any old guard or any old servant, but the sophisticated retainer of someone elegant and powerful.

Other occasions, such as this one, truly reminded her of her lowly status. Marisa stared at the clothes spread across the bed and wondered where on earth she was supposed to start. No instruction from Lord Aramid, no hints… She’d simply been left to her own devices, and Cassie looked almost as blank as she felt.

Hesitant to make a move in case she made herself look stupid, Marisa took a step back and tried to work out exactly what Lord Aramid had left her. She could only assume that the pink silk robe comprised the main part of the outfit, but she wasn’t sure which of the various underlayers came first. Finally she took the plunge and held up a long strip of white cloth. “This just wraps around, right?”

Cassie shrugged.

“I thought you’d seen fancy clothes before,” Marisa said, but even she could tell these clothes were different. They were occasion robes, not the sort of thing she’d worn on her previous excursions to the palace. “You know, I’m not sure I ever saw Lady Sanda wearing something this complicated. And it would have been the slaves who dressed her anyway.”

Cassie took the strip of cloth off her, inspected it for a few moments, then returned it to the bed and picked up a plain robe that Marisa had taken for another underlayer. Marisa pulled off the tunic she was wearing, and Cassie helped her put her arms into the sleeves of the new robe.

“These sleeves are really loose… are you sure this is the bottom layer?”

With an unspoken yet clear _just shut up and let me try,_ Cassie moved around to Marisa’s back and started tugging at the seams. Marisa stayed still, thankful that she could at least stand properly with the new leg. Seemingly satisfied with her efforts, Cassie overlapped the sides and tied the underrobe closed with the strip of cloth.

It took a lot of pushing and prodding and exasperated sighs from the pair of them, but finally they were done. Cassie held up the mirror, and Marisa found herself staring back at someone who looked almost like a noble. She twisted to the side, smoothing a crease in the sash around her waist.

“Well, it _looks_ right,” she said.

At least nothing had been left on the bed. Marisa kicked her good leg, disliking how loosely the trousers flapped around her knee. “Thanks for helping me. I wouldn’t have been able to do that on my own… the only thing I know how to wear is armour.”

They went out to meet with Lord Aramid. The robe was about the same length as Marisa’s tunic but the undergarments were tightly wrapped, and she couldn’t take long strides like she was used to. She just hoped there would be no trouble in the palace; if all the nobles were dressed like this they’d be doing a lot of waddling away from things.

“Marisa.” Lord Aramid stood up when she arrived. She faltered, wondering if she was expected to do something in return and not knowing what. She settled for a quick bow, glad the fabric allowed for it. “Cassie helped you, I take it?”

“She did. I – I’m afraid I wasn’t really sure what I was doing.”

“Hmm. And nor was she, from the looks of things.” He moved around her, inspecting the robes from all angles. “Not at all bad, but she left a few creases. At least you’re wearing everything in the right order.” He paused, facing her. “Aside from the front of the robes. They’re wrapped the wrong way.”

“Sorry, my lord.” Marisa would have corrected them, but the sash was tied so securely there wasn’t room to manoeuvre the fabric. “I’m not overdressed, am I?”

His eyebrows rose. “Not for a special occasion.”

“But I’m not much more than a servant.”

“If you think this is ostentatious, you should really take a look at what the nobles will be wearing. Do the robes fit properly?”

“I think so. They’re comfortable enough. Maybe wrapped a little too tight.”

“I’m afraid that’s just the style of the garment. It’s only for an evening. Do you like the colours?”

“They’re beautiful,” said Marisa, though she was not at all sure the pink suited her. Struck by a sudden image of spilling something on the pale fabric, she tugged uncomfortably at the sash around her waist. “Do you want me to keep wearing them, my lord, or shall I change?”

“Keep them on for now,” he replied, to her dismay. “Get yourself used to them. Besides, I don’t think you’ve been trained in palace etiquette.”

“Palace etiquette?” Marisa echoed.

“No need to look so terrified. Sit yourself at the table. We’ve a lot to get through.”

Marisa took her seat. The fabric felt suddenly tight around her shoulders and she suspected the robes had been stitched with a daintier woman in mind. Seeing Lord Aramid was watching her, she tried to keep her back straight.

“Obviously, the new year’s celebration at the palace is only three days away now. You may be able to tell from the clothes you are wearing that you will not be working… or at least, that’s what the nobility will assume. I don’t think you need me to tell you that I want your eyes and ears to stay open.”

“Of course, my lord.”

He smiled. “The right clothes and the right mannerisms, and you’ll blend in just as well as any noble. So let’s focus on the mannerisms.”

Marisa had learned many rules during her time serving nobles, but it soon became clear that she’d barely scratched the surface. Palace etiquette was deeply intricate, governed by the tiniest of details she would never have noticed without having them pointed out to her. Lord Aramid hadn’t been kidding when he’d said they had a lot to get through.

She learned how to stand and when, how to sit and when. The multifaceted ritual that seemed to come with opening a napkin or using a fingerbowl. The odd little rules that allowed her to open a curtain on her own but not a door. The correct way to hold a pearl cup, and the vulgar way. After a while it occurred to Marisa that learning a lifetime’s etiquette in just three days was an impossible task. Her mind was already overflowing with all the lessons that had been crammed in.

“My lord,” she said, finally daring to give voice to her silent doubts, “what if I do something wrong? Will it offend everyone?”

“It depends on what you do wrong,” he replied. “But etiquette is not necessarily manners, and you seem to have manners enough. People will most likely notice that you made a mistake and wonder why you’re at the party at all. You won’t be arrested for it if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His reassurances were less of a comfort than she’d hoped they’d be. “I wouldn’t want to be an embarrassment to you any more than I would want to get myself arrested.”

“Ah, because of Lady Sanda?”

“Not just—” She stopped; the old shame was creeping over her. “I let her down.”

“Because of your leg. And she disposed of you.” He shook his head. “I’ve seen the state that Skeleton limb was in. I was astonished it was even operable. Still, you won’t have to worry about that now. I don’t have quite the same insecurities about my household staff as most nobles do… although we are scrutinised much more than those other nobles. Do your best not to draw attention to either of us – but I will say that if I was really that worried, I wouldn’t be bringing you at all.”

She nodded hesitantly.

“The main rule still applies. Don’t approach nobles for conversation, but if they come to you, you may engage them. And I think they _will_ come to you… especially the menfolk.” His gaze lingered on her for a second, just long enough to make her blush. “Use that to your advantage.”

Marisa thought back to her reflection. Even garru draped in pink silk still looked like garru. As Lord Ohta had proven, looking noble brought no promise of elegance. “And if they don’t? What if no one wants to talk to me all evening?”

“Then you’ll just have to eavesdrop on everyone else. If it really gets lonely, come and find me. I’m sure I can introduce you to a few people.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“We’ll resume our lessons tomorrow. I recommend you get a little rest before dinner… and perhaps change back into your more comfortable clothes while you’re at it.”

Glad of the permission, Marisa went with Cassie to the bedroom. She pulled off the silk robes and handed them to her, not especially caring what Cassie did with them. _To think I’ll have to spend an entire evening wearing these._ Granted, there were worse things — at least she wasn’t a mute slave — but it was beginning to feel as though the tests would never end. What if she blundered her way through the whole event and made herself the talk of the party? What if she seriously embarrassed Lord Aramid? What if he decided she was too much of a liability to be trusted with any kind of subterfuge, and disposed of her with the same casual cruelty as Lady Sanda?

Marisa struggled into her tunic, her arms tangling in the sleeves. It took her a moment to realise she was shaking.

“Stay here,” she told Cassie, and went back into the main room.

She hadn’t really been expecting to find Lord Aramid still there; he was prone to slipping away at a moment’s notice. But he was still sitting at the table — and now she was gone, he was skimming through a pile of papers in front of him. He didn’t look up on Marisa’s arrival, nor make any acknowledgement that she was there. She watched as he set a blank sheet of paper next to the stack and began to write.

He hadn’t noticed her, and a strange kind of thrill shot through her at that realisation. Part of her wanted to cough politely and dispel his illusion of solitude, but curiosity closed her throat. She’d never had a chance to see what Lord Aramid did when he thought himself unobserved. He continued to write, dipping his nib in the inkwell, the empty page coming alive with long, flowing strokes that glistened in the lamplight. Not even Lady Sanda had had such elegant handwriting.

Marisa tore her gaze away from the drying ink but it was too late; Lord Aramid had finished whatever he was writing. He set down his pen and went to the other side of the room in search of something. His back was turned to her as he rummaged.

Now was her opportunity to enter the room properly and pretend she hadn’t been loitering all along. But curiosity got the better of Marisa as she approached, and she found herself sidestepping towards the table.

Lord Aramid’s letter wasn’t especially long; a half page, patterned with that beautiful handwriting, with a single initial underneath. Still Marisa found her eyes drawn not to Lord Aramid’s words but to those he’d been referencing. Something about them gave her sudden pause, sending a tide of icy seawater swirling in her guts. But before she could look back over the letter to see who it was addressed to, Lord Aramid found what he was looking for and strolled back to the table.

Marisa didn’t have much time to react, though she did manage to step away from the documents before Lord Aramid noticed her. When he _did_ notice her, his eyes widened just for a second… and then his face settled into something far more relaxed.

“Have you been standing there long?” he said.

Marisa forced a smile. “No, my lord.”

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

“This leg’s much quieter than the crutches. I’m not used to the silence either.”

“Of course.” Out of the corner of her eye, Marisa saw him gather up the papers and tuck them into a pocket in his robes. “I’d say that leg is remarkably stealthy.”

Had he bought it, or did he think she’d been spying on him? Marisa scanned his face for a moment, but Lord Aramid’s calm expression gave nothing away. He lit a candle, holding a wax-spoon over the flame, then dribbled the melted wax over the folded edges of his letter. Marisa tried to watch, but whether by accident or design Lord Aramid moved between her and the table, so she couldn’t see what seal he used.

“Are seals an Okranite thing?” she said before she could stop herself.

He twitched slightly. “What?”

“Seals. You have an insignia. Other nobles don’t. Lady Sanda never had one.”

“Ah yes, a cultural difference.” He sounded a little distracted. “I prefer seals over scrolls, myself. A little less fancy, but more secure.”

“I see, my lord.”

He turned back towards her, and Marisa saw that his letter was no longer on the table. “Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked.

“No, my lord. I just wanted to thank you for the lessons earlier. Lady Sanda would never have done something like that. She’d have just expected me to know.”

“Ah yes. That ties in with what I know about her.” He frowned at her for a second, and Marisa got the sudden and uncomfortable sense that she was being scrutinised. “Nothing else?”

“No, my lord.”

He smiled the sort of smile that said _of course not._ “Dinner is being prepared. If you want to discuss anything you’ve learned, do let me know.”

She nodded. “And I will. Thank you.”

Looking satisfied, Lord Aramid pushed back the curtain and left the room. Marisa shot a glance back at the table but it was now completely empty, and Hesper was coming in to set it. Marisa stepped back so she was out of her way and tried not to think too hard about what had just happened.

It could have been innocent, and the chances were that it was. Seeing her notes on the table alongside Lord Aramid’s brutally short summary wasn’t necessarily cause for alarm — especially not if the emperor trusted him. But that icy tide of adrenaline followed Marisa right through until dinnertime, and it was only as she was cutting into a slab of garru meat that she realised why.

Innocuous or not, she’d still spied on Lord Aramid. When he’d put her on the spot, she’d had to lie her way out of trouble.

And from the looks of things, he hadn’t even noticed.


	13. Brothers

The day or two that followed their arrival in Flats Lagoon was, by and large, a time of relief. Kat spent most of that time in a slight daze, scarcely able to believe they’d reached a place of safety. But even those moments when she felt most secure carried gnawing fear and nagging doubt, and she hated the secret they had all been forced to keep.

Still, it was a secret they could never tell. Kat knew all the sympathetic smiles, the comfortable beds, the protective walls that kept the beak things and land-bats at bay, would disappear in an instant if anyone ever found out the truth about World’s End. She knew, too, that they were out of places to go, and the Tech Hunter cities were their last hope of survival.

There had been several occasions when the world had distorted, usually when Lekko, Pia and the twins were nowhere nearby. On most of those occasions she’d found herself being comforted by people who were still little more than strangers to her, and once the panic attack passed she’d shrink away feeling ashamed and undeserving. It was far easier to spend the bulk of her day out of the squad-house, trying to stay away from other people in case it happened again.

The edge of the rig was a good place to be alone. Kat swung her legs over the side, resting her back against the shadowy wall of a house. In a way it reminded her of Flotsam, the way she had desperately sought her own company and tucked herself away in a pool of mud. But this felt like less of an attempt at self-punishment and more an attempt at peace; something about the shimmering lagoon water was oddly soothing to her racing thoughts.

Kat wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there, but after a while her arse and thighs started to grow numb, and her attempts at shifting position nearly pitched her into the lake beneath. As she gripped the wall and pulled herself to her feet, she noticed her stomach was growling again. It felt like she was always hungry, even though she was far less starved than most of the others. _Wonder if there’s anything to eat in the squad-house._

She started to wander back, more to ease her cramped legs than because she really wanted to. Her feet still felt awkward in the new boots, but the baby blisters on her heels and toes were infinitely preferable to leaving bloody smears everywhere she walked. She had a sneaking love for the fluffy lining, too. She was wearing her trousers over the tops of her boots, and the white gorillo fur tickled her bare skin every time she took a step. Maybe she shouldn’t have let Jared spend all that money on her. Maybe she should have protested a little more strongly…

Kat kept walking, still thinking about the boots. Her movements only stopped when she smacked into someone who was stationary. There was a slight hiss of pain from the other person and Kat pulled back, massaging her eyebrow from where she’d caught it on the rim of a hat. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“No, I should be sorry. I thought you’d seen me.” Thalen smiled as he readjusted his hat, but the smile was slightly embarrassed. “And… I’m sorry about the other day. It was never my intention to put anyone else in harm’s way.”

“Oh.” Kat rubbed the back of her neck. “I… I understand how that feels. At least you and Jared were OK.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “Are _you_ OK? You seemed a bit distracted just now.”

“I’m fine,” Kat said, and tried to put World’s End out of her mind. “Where’s Yari?”

“Think he’s still at the squad-house. We aren’t joined at the hip, you know.” He chuckled. “Were you going back there?”

“Just to get food.”

“Oh, yeah. Lunch. That’s a thing. I was just going to grab something in the bar. You can come too if you want.”

“You’re going to the bar?” Kat said, suddenly torn.

“It’s where they normally advertise the job postings. Can’t freelance if you don’t actively look for work.”

Kat chewed on her lip. “I’d better go back to the squad-house. I don’t have any money.”

“Ewin’s paid us now. I can get you lunch.”

Her face heated a little. First the drink, now lunch… He had to think she was a total charity case. “Oh no… don’t worry about that. Honest. It’s fine. People have spent enough money on me as it is.”

“Look, finding work is boring. I might as well have someone there to make things more interesting. Besides, if it really bothers you, you can pay me back later.”

 _I’m not being fair,_ Kat thought. _If he knew I was a wanted criminal who’d caused a whole town’s downfall, he wouldn’t be buying me anything._

“All right then,” she said aloud.

“Great.” He grinned and set off ahead. Kat followed him to the nearest bar, a place the sign told her was called the Drunken Gutter. It was cool and airy inside, and apart from the faint whiff of hash smoke the place was pleasant enough. Kat found a table tucked at the side of the room, while Thalen went up to the noticeboard and started pulling out thumbtacks.

“Should you be doing that?” she said.

“It’s fine, I’ll put them back… probably.” He spread the job postings across the table. “What d’you want to eat?”

“I don’t know what this place sells.”

“The usual sort of bar food, really. Their gohan is pretty good.” He passed her a string of cats. “Whatever you decide on, get me something as well, would you?”

She counted the money as she hovered nervously at the bar. He’d given her more than enough for two bowls of gohan. Not quite trusting her own ability to choose something they both liked, she went with Thalen’s suggestion. A few minutes later, the barkeep set two steaming bowls of gohan on their table. Kat tried a bit of her own; Thalen had been right about it tasting good.

“Anything there?” she said, seeing he was still sifting through the job adverts.

“Just a few things. I guess I’ll have to see if Yari wants to take any of these jobs.”

“You always take jobs together, then?”

“Yup, we’re a package deal. People can be funny about freelance swords, and Tech Hunters especially. Always good to know someone else your back… and besides, we’re family.”

“He’s a Greenlander,” Kat said before she could stop herself.

“Huh?” Thalen was scrutinising one of the postings. “Oh yeah, he is.”

“And you’re a Scorchlander…”

Thalen looked up, and for a second Kat thought he might get angry at her. To her relief, he laughed loudly. “He’s adopted.”

“Oh… yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“It’s never made a difference to how we see each other. We might not be related by blood, but that doesn’t matter.” He swept the job postings into a pile. “I’ll put them back later. Don’t let me forget. Barkeeps really hate it when you take the entire job board down.”

“So when will you be going?”

“Depends on Yari.” He shrugged. “I fancy sitting around until the new year, at least. Like I said in Shem, Flats Lagoon parties are supposed to be _good._ Definitely worth staying for.”

“But what if Ewin’s right, and there’s no party?”

“Honestly, I doubt that’ll happen. It’s the event of the year and besides, the Tech Hunters aren’t going to let a bunch of holy bastards get in the way of a party. I know the mindset. World’s End is gone, so they party extra hard in their memory.” He paused. “You going?”

“I don’t know,” Kat mumbled. She’d never been to a party before but, as enticing as it sounded, her mind still shied from the thought of it. “I doubt Rei will want to go. She doesn’t like crowds. And someone should probably stay with her.”

“That’s fair enough. Just… I wouldn’t completely pass up the opportunity to let loose and have some fun. You seemed like you really needed it the other night, when we were all in Shem.”

Kat stared into her bowl of gohan. “I didn’t say anything too stupid, did I?”

“Nah, you seem to have pretty good control of yourself even when you’re tipsy. Way better self-control than I do when I’m sober.” He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “Shit, I could really use a haircut.”

“Hey, your hair’s still better than mine.”

“It kind of suits you, you know.”

“And the slave-brand, that suits me too?” Now she was definitely being unfair — she could tell Thalen was just trying to help her feel better — but something about the comment had irked her. Everyone who’d seen her since Rebirth had seen the slowly healing scar, marking her as property and not as a person. “You know how humiliating it is when everyone can tell what you were just by looking at your face?”

“I do,” said Thalen. Kat pulled her shoulders in, suddenly wishing she were somewhere else. “But I guess being marked as an idiot and being marked as a victim are two slightly different things.”

“I’m not a victim.” Was that how she thought of herself? Kat rubbed at the brand, feeling the fragile, mending skin under her fingers. “I just don’t want to look like a slave.”

“You don’t look like one. I’m sorry if I implied you did.”

“No. I do.” The gohan didn’t look quite so appealing anymore. “I look as weak and helpless as the day they put me in chains, and I hate it.”

“But you got a weapon. The jitte.” He nodded at it.

“Yeah. It’s a glorified metal stick. I can’t even hit things with it half the time. The beak things the other day? I just froze up when I saw them. I wasn’t any use to anyone. Not to you, not to Jared, not to the Tech Hunters. Might as well have been a slave for all the good I did.”

“All right.” Thalen had almost finished his own gohan. “Come on, eat up. I got something I need to do.”

Of course he wanted rid of her. Kat tried to force the sticky rice past the lump in her throat. Her eyes felt sore, and she scowled to keep the tears at bay. She wasn’t even sure why she wanted to cry. “I’m nearly done,” she muttered.

Thalen started returning the advertisements to the board. Kat noticed he slipped a few into his pockets, and so did the barkeep. “Young man, I can see you’re literate. May I suggest you use a pen and paper rather than deprive other people of a chance for work?”

Looking sheepish, Thalen took the adverts out of his pockets. “I was going to return them.”

“You mercenaries never do.”

“Well, now _she’s_ giving me dirty looks,” Thalen said as Kat swallowed the last lump of rice. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

They left the Drunken Gutter, stepping into the sun. Kat had assumed they’d part ways here, but Thalen called her back as she turned to leave.

“Hey, wait. Don’t go yet. I kind of need you for this.”

Kat stopped in her tracks. “What?”

“You said you couldn’t hit things, right?” He patted his katana. “D’you want to practise?”

“Practise?” She knew she sounded stupid but the words didn’t quite make sense to her. “You mean like… training?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I just thought that after what you said, it might help you feel a little better about yourself.” He paused. “Another day, perhaps?”

Kat considered the alternatives. She could return to her little hiding spot and stare blankly at the lake until it grew dark, or she could sit in the squad-house and try not to feel too overwhelmed. Maybe Thalen’s offer would help her take her mind off things. “I guess we could give it a go.”

“Great. We should find somewhere a bit quieter than this.”

They found an empty space with plenty of room for manoeuvre and stood facing each other on the rig-floor. Kat drew her jitte, but Thalen left his katana in its sheath.

“Have you used that much before?” he asked her.

She shook her head.

“Do you have experience with _any_ weapon?”

“No. Not really. I can sort of hit things with a turret. And I used to carry around an iron stick when I lived in the Swamp. But I didn’t have to use it all that often.”

“That’s fine…” He moved over to her. “OK, so before we get started, we need to figure out your strengths as a fighter.”

“I don’t have any.”

He laughed. “The hell are you talking about? I can think up a bunch of them just by looking at you.”

“But I’m not exactly what you’d think of as a fighter. I’m tiny.”

“So am I.” Now that Kat thought about it, he really wasn’t that much taller than her. A little over five foot, at most. “And that’s what I was about to say. We’re Scorchlanders. We’re smaller than most, weaker than most and neither of us will ever be able to master something much bigger than a standard-size katana. So what do you do when you’re small and weak? You don’t play brawny. You play smart. Let me see your jitte.”

She handed it to him. He weighed it in his hands for a second, then gave it back. “That’s not too bad, as the weighting goes. Heavy enough to pack a punch, light enough for you to wield… and a nice distribution of balance. OK, let’s imagine you’ve got that in your hand and someone comes at you. They’re bigger than you. What do you do?”

“Hit them.”

“How?”

“Hard.”

He burst out laughing. “Well, that’s a start – but what would your strategy be?”

“I don’t know,” Kat said. She definitely sounded stupid now. “I wouldn’t have time to think of one, would I?”

“No. Which is why it’s always good to have an idea of how to approach a fight _before_ you ever get in one. You need to be able to react instinctively.” He drew his katana. “I’m using a sword. Nice and sharp, the point gets stuck in people, it hurts them. Because of my weapon style, I like to get up close and personal. And that gives me certain advantages over a polearm user like Yari. Yari has reach, but the second a katana gets past that defence he’s fucked. He can’t swing his polearm to hit someone who’s already right next to him with a katana in his guts. I fight aggressive, and since I’m small and fast, I can dart around a big weapon like a polearm or a fragment axe.

“Now I imagine you’d prefer a defensive style of fighting, given you’re carrying a subdual weapon. When you’re up against that hypothetical polearm user you’ll need to leave room to swing, since you can’t stab with a jitte. And you’ll be wanting to stay fast because if a trained polearm user hits you, you’ll be put out of action or stunned at the very least. So, you need to move around him to get to the vulnerable areas. The groin’s kinda obvious, but a good whack on any joint can incapacitate that limb. Personally? I’d go for the back of the knee. Someone with a big or long weapon has to move with more of their body, so they’re usually a little slower and a little more predictable than someone with a katana. And if you can’t get the knee, get the elbow.”

“What if he’s wearing armour?” said Kat.

“That’s the advantage of a jitte. If my opponent has good armour, I need to search for a weak spot. If your opponent has good armour, he probably thinks he’s got this fight in the bag. But jittes don’t care so much about armour. Whack a joint and he’s going down.”

“But what if my opponent’s someone like you? Someone the same size as me, with something small and sharp like a katana?”

“I’m gonna show you now,” Thalen said.

The next twenty minutes were a whirling blur of clashing steel and dripping sweat. Kat spent most of the time learning how to properly parry blows, and Thalen’s attacks became faster. Her heart began to race as adrenaline kicked in, and it was only when the swinging blade nicked the back of her hand that she realised he’d been pulling his blows.

“Your hand OK?” Thalen checked, pausing his attack.

“Yeah.” Kat stared down at it with a slight detachment. “Scar tissue. Didn’t feel it.”

“If it’s painful, we can stop.”

“No. Let’s keep going. My hand needs to get its flexibility back anyway.”

She spent another ten minutes learning to block Thalen’s attacks. Her arms were beginning to tire and the muscles in her shoulders felt horribly sore, but now she didn’t have to worry so much about getting hit she could see more of a pattern in Thalen’s fighting style. Even when he changed things up he was still more predictable than he realised, careful not to make moves that relied too much on depth perception… She moved the jitte a little faster — then, unable to resist the urge, took a step back so that he missed it and stumbled. With a grin she laid the end of the jitte against the inner crease of his elbow. “Hah, not as bad as you might—”

The katana swept across the side of her upper arm. She staggered, feeling the sharp blade as her head spun slightly with the heat. She didn’t completely lose her balance, but her palm hit the side of a nearby building and the jitte almost fell from her grasp. This time it was Thalen that was grinning. “Cocky words are best left until _after_ your opponent is down.”

“I didn’t do too bad though, right?” Kat rubbed at her arm. It stung slightly, like a paper cut. “Or did I do it all wrong?”

“Nah, you did good. Did I hurt you? I tried to hit you with the flat of the blade but you moved.”

“Believe me, I’ve had worse injuries.” She tried to take some of her weight off the wall and stand upright, but the slight spin in her head had turned into a sickening dizziness. “Just give me a sec… light-headed.”

“Yeah, let’s stop.” Thalen helped her sit down in the shade. “You’ve been working pretty hard. You don’t feel like you’re about to faint, do you?”

“Not faint.” Kat leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. “I’ll be OK in a bit.”

“If you’re sure. I shouldn’t have pushed you quite as hard as that. I forgot you’d still be recovering.”

“Nobody will go easy on me if they pick a fight,” Kat said. “I wanted to do it. Besides, the slavers didn’t care if I was weak or tired or sick.”

“I’d like to think I’m not as bad as a slaver.” He sat down beside her. “I’d offer you some water, but I left the waterskin back at the squad-house. D’you want to start heading back when you’re ready?”

Kat massaged her forehead. “Might be a good idea.”

Their return to the squad-house was a slow one; Kat could feel she’d pulled several muscles, and there were bruises on her arms and knuckles from where the katana had rapped them. The injuries still held a vague sense of triumph. “Thanks for showing me, by the way,” she said.

Thalen shrugged. “You seem to learn fast enough. You know, you could be a really good fighter if you put in the work… and if you were less hesitant to hit me.”

“I don’t know. I’d rather not have to fight at all.”

“That surprises me, you know. You seemed to be enjoying yourself enough earlier.”

“Earlier was different.” She’d come up against people trying to hurt her, to capture her, to _kill_ her. In those kinds of situations, enjoying herself had been the last thing on her mind. “The stakes weren’t exactly high.”

“Higher stakes make it more fun… then again, I’m probably too addicted to the thrill of it. But you’d never consider becoming a Tech Hunter? Or a mercenary?”

“That’s more adventure than I need. I just want a quiet life.”

They slowed down a little more as they reached the squad-house. Kat suddenly realised she didn’t really want to go inside. “You said you were going to the party, right?” she said, trying to stave off the inevitable.

“Guess so. Even if it’s just for a bit. Can’t turn down free food. Or free booze.”

“I’ll try and come along too.” She scuffed her new boots against the ground. “Just, y’know, for a bit. I can see if someone else is willing to stay with Rei for that time.”

“You really care about her, don’t you?”

“She’s my best friend.”

“Well, she’s lucky to have you. And Jared too from the looks of things.”

“I guess. They do like each other.”

Thalen opened the squad-house door and waved her through. “You’d better get some rest. You look seriously worn out.”

Kat wasn’t the only one. Jared, Yari and Pia had all disappeared off somewhere, as had Ewin, but the rest of the group was all either sitting around or lying down. Spade was asleep, Rei dozing. Beanhop was polishing his crossbow, while Mik flicked through a book one-handed. Lekko was attempting to repair her hat — a task that seemed futile given the extent of the damage the Shek had caused.

“You have fun?” Lekko said.

“Thalen was showing me how to fight.” Kat realised she was still a little out of breath. She flopped on her bed with a relieved sigh. “You know, you could get a new hat.”

“This one still does the job. Wouldn’t be a drifter if I couldn’t fix things… Speaking of fixing, you should probably stick around. Yehanan will be dropping by later. Wants to check on all of us, make sure we’re not too fucked over from starvation and shit. She can probably take a look at that brand while she’s at it.”

“I guess,” Kat said, rubbing at her cheek.

“That isn’t fully healed. You shouldn’t be touching it.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Kat lowered her hand. “You know, I asked you about your plans when we were in the wilderness, but not so much now we’re settled somewhere. Will you be staying around?”

Lekko put the hat on the bed beside her. “Maybe for a few months, I don’t know… At some point I’d like to find my people again. And hopefully my husband too.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Kat said quietly.

“Drifters don’t do well in towns. Not long-term, anyway. I’m forgetting too much of myself.” She sighed. “In some ways I’d rather stay here. It feels like a proper community. I’ll miss you when I leave.”

“Maybe I could come with you.”

Lekko chuckled. “You’re no drifter, Kat. You wouldn’t be happy.”

“I might be.”

“The drifters have a saying, you know. _Even the Sentinels go dark and fire burns out.”_

 _“Even the Sentinels go dark…_ what does that mean?”

“You know how sometimes the shadow passes over the Sentinels, and that’s what causes the darkest nights?”

“Yeah.” She’d watched it happen a few times. Ava had called them eclipses. “But the saying…”

“It means nothing in life is guaranteed, not the light of the Sentinels nor the heat of a fire. We live in a world where you go to bed tonight none the wiser that you’ll die tomorrow… and it’s especially dangerous for drifters. An outsider would find drifter life brutal… You’re tough, Kat, but I think you’d be far happier in a place like Flats.” Her voice grew quiet. “It’s a more stable future than anything the drifters could ever provide.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Kat could hear the truth in Lekko’s words, but the doubts still nagged. Even in the relative safety of Flats Lagoon, the future still felt a lot more uncertain than she’d hoped it might be.

* * *

It had been a slow morning, a morning of observation rather than of doing. Jared sat on the edge of the squad-house roof, staring across the town as its people went about their daily routines, and tried to summon the energy to do something more interesting with his time.

Although he’d never considered it a home — certainly not in the way he’d considered World’s End a home — Jared had always liked Flats Lagoon. He’d first visited the place shortly after he and Spade had decided to become Tech Hunters, and it still held a certain nostalgia for times long past.

In some ways, Flats Lagoon felt slower than World’s End had been. Jared couldn’t remember if it had always been this slow, or if it was a trick of the mind caused by spending too much time in the squad-house. Flats certainly had the kind of weather that invited slowness, and Jared wished he could find some peace in this warm sunshine, but his body still felt tense. Tense and sore, like he’d been beaten with rocks. He hadn’t felt this run down since the Stenn.

A cloud drifted across the sun, providing a brief but much-needed break in the temperature. Jared swung his legs over the parapet, dropping down onto the roof, and tried to resist the urge to lie down in the shade. He’d slept so much, and yet it had done so little. There were too many walls, walls that surrounded him and pushed closer together every time they sensed a lack of resistance. Sometimes he could see through them, like cage bars; at other times they were opaque, blocking out light and hope and the voices of friends. He couldn’t remember when he’d first noticed them, but they seemed to be getting stronger with every day that passed…

He found himself striding across the roof towards the stairs. Angry strides, as if he were about to confront someone. It was only when he reached the bottom step that he slowed to a more usual pace, trying not to disturb the people who were sleeping. He could feel Lekko’s eyes on him as he left.

The street was a little shadier than the roof, but not much. Jared paused for a moment, wandering if he really had the energy for a walk. Three steps outside and his legs were already aching, but if he stayed still for too long, the walls might find him again…

As he was considering his options, he noticed a figure sitting against the outer wall of the squad-house. A lone figure in a rattan hat, with the glint of a small blade in his hand. Jared approached, feeling a faint stirring of curiosity that had been absent for a while, and cleared his throat.

“Oh, hi.” Yari put down the chunk of wood he’d been carving. He smiled faintly. “I didn’t see you.”

“Sorry.” Jared nodded at the flute-whistle on Yari’s lap. “How’s that going?”

“Huh? Oh… not great.” Yari held it up to show him. There was a notch in the side that had evidently been caused by a careless slip of the knife. Blood smeared the wood like a thin coat of unevenly applied paint. “Wasn’t paying enough attention, I guess.”

“You need the first aid kit?”

“Nah… save it for something important.” He sheathed the knife. “Doesn’t really hurt.”

“If you’re sure,” Jared said, seeing Yari clutch suddenly at his fingers.

“It’s fine.”

“Can I sit down?”

“I guess.”

Jared slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground, stretching out his legs with relief. Yari slipped the sheathed knife back into the pocket of his dustcoat. The pair of them sat and watched the progress of a departing squad, who’d just left the Drunken Gutter and was heading towards the town’s gates.

“That’ll me and Thalen soon enough,” Yari remarked.

“On to the next job, right?”

“I guess so,” Yari said heavily.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”

“Just tired.” He was still staring at the retreating squad. “Didn’t sleep so well.”

Jared glanced sideways at Yari. There may well have been truth to that statement — his eyes were slightly reddened, the corners of his mouth turned down. But he also looked shrunken; though he was dressed in more casual clothing, he still had the dustcoat, which was tightly fastened in spite of the hot weather. His reddish-blonde hair was rumpled and messy under his hat. Jared decided not to mention it. “You got any ideas on where you might be going, what you’ll be doing?”

Yari shook his head. “Best guess is more Tech Hunter work… Thalen’s already looking. Think he’s gone to one of the bars.”

“But you’ve not gone with him?”

“He always complains when I pick,” Yari said with a shrug. “I’m sure he’ll come back with a shortlist of the most dangerous-sounding jobs he can find. He’ll probably come back saying he wants to go to the Ashlands or something. But… he’s the one who wanted to freelance in the first place so… maybe I should just back off for once and let him choose.”

“You deserve a say too, you know.”

“Do I? I’m just there to stop him—” Yari stopped. His freckled cheeks, already slightly ruddy with sunburn, reddened further still. “To stop him doing anything too impulsive.”

“Huh. Y’know, I sometimes feel that way. I mean, I got a sibling too.”

Yari drew his knees up to his chest, staring into nothingness. “Me and Thalen, it’s not like you and Spade. You two look after each other. But it’s always been me looking after Tay, ever since I convinced our mam to take him in as ours.”

“Ah, yeah. Adoptive brothers.”

“Orphans don’t last long in Clownsteady. Especially not little kids. But… I dunno. I think he resents it anyway. Our siblings didn’t take to him. They pushed him around a lot… our mam’s a good woman, but she never even noticed.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Yari said hastily, “it’s just the way things are. But still, I can’t let him get killed just because he wants to prove something to himself. He can be a reckless idiot at times… but he’s still my little brother.”

“It’s a heavy responsibility.”

“It’s always been my responsibility.”

“Have you spoken to Thalen about all this?”

“What am I supposed to say? I know he thinks I’m suffocating him. And if I try and stop him doing what he wants, we’ll end up arguing and he’ll probably rush into danger without me.”

“Yeah. Don’t let him do that. Not worth the guilt.”

Yari hugged his knees. “I just… I gotta take a step back…”

“Being a mercenary, freelancer, whatever. That’s a good career.” It had been ideal for him and Spade, at least until Ewin had offered them a place in the squad. “But take it from me. If you’re only doing something coz of family, it’ll just make you resentful.”

“I’m not resentful. And I’m not just doing it for Thalen, either. But…” Yari shrugged, looking helpless. “I don’t know. It’s always on to the next thing. The moment a job’s over, Tay’s looking for the next. It’s been like this for the last five years, and… we have nothing to show for it. Nothing except money, a few bad memories, a few good ones. We’ve barely even gone home in all that time.”

“Hey.” Seeing Yari was blinking rapidly, Jared put a hand on his shoulder. “You know Ewin will let you and Thalen stay longer if you need to. Take some time, have a rest.”

“We _had_ time. We spent a full month with them.” Yari rubbed at his eyes. “But at the end of the day we’re not Ewin’s people. We’re outsiders. I don’t know, staying here just… kind of makes it feel worse.”

“It’s tough, not feeling like you fit.”

“You and Spade were part of Ewin’s squad, though… and he definitely still considers you his squad. He treats you like his kids.”

“Yeah, well…” Jared sighed. “It’s the best family we’ve ever had. Ewin believes in us, unlike the people we grew up with.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“It’s not a thing we talk about. Just…” He hesitated. “I guess we can sort of relate, if you ever _do_ want to discuss it.”

“Thanks, but I think we’ll be gone from here soon enough. Thalen wants to stay for the party, and then… well, I guess it’s gonna be more of the same.”

“Yari?”

“Yeah?”

Jared smiled thinly, trying not to feel like a massive hypocrite. “Talk to Thalen, yeah? I’m sure he’ll understand. Always good to know what’s going through the mind of the person you know has your back.”

“I guess. Thanks.” Yari stood up, fiddling with the ruined whistle-flute. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you later.”

“All right,” Jared said, and watched him go. Things still felt heavy and suffocating, but the opportunity to listen to someone else’s problems was oddly refreshing. He set off in the opposite direction Yari had gone, wandering down the street towards the auction house.

The auction house sat at the end of the main thoroughfare, an almost straight line from the squad-house. It held periodical auctions for rarer tech like old documents and AI cores, but Jared knew it was also home to the town council. As he approached, he noticed the council had recently been in session; Yehanan had just left the building, deep in conversation with several other people he recognised as squad-leaders. Jared stepped aside to let them past… and stepped straight into Ewin.

“Ah, Jared. You’re up and about, then.”

“You were in the council?” Jared said, too surprised for an apology.

“Discussing World’s End. I’d have brought you and Spade with me, but I thought you needed the rest.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jared forced a grin. “You spared us the torment of having to sit through a meeting.”

“Jared, this is a serious matter.”

Jared hunched his shoulders. “I know. Sorry.”

“What are you doing down here, anyway?”

“Just wandering.” Jared thought for a moment. “Ewin, can I ask you something?”

“Is this a hypothetical asking-for-a-friend type of question?”

 _“Hah,_ no. Who do you think I am?”

“The sort of person who gets into trouble a lot.” They fell into step beside one another, heading back towards the squad-house. “What did you want to ask me, anyway?”

“Would you ever consider asking Yari and Thalen to join the squad?”

Ewin raised an eyebrow. “Where did _that_ come from?”

“Just a conversation earlier,” Jared answered with a shrug. “They’ve been around longer than most mercenaries, coz of what happened with Mik. And the squad’s been looking kinda small.”

“Hmm. That is true.” Ewin frowned. “Yari would probably make a fine addition. Sensible and trustworthy, that’s rare in freelancers these days.”

“What about Thalen?”

“He already endangered everyone in the squad with his recklessness,” Ewin pointed out. “You could have been killed trying to save him.”

“So that’s a no.”

“I’m sorry. I know you were getting along well with them both. But I don’t think Thalen would be a suitable addition to the team.”

“C’mon, Ewin.” Jared smiled his most persuasive smile. “You took a chance on me and Spade.”

“And you’ve heard from Yehanan what kind of reputation we all have,” Ewin said with a despairing sigh. “By the way, I spoke to Yehanan before the council. She’ll be dropping by in an hour or so, just to check in properly on how everyone is doing. It might be a good opportunity for her to look over Rei.”

“Yeah.”

“She might be able to get to the bottom of what’s been causing the blackouts, if you can convince Rei to speak to her.”

“I’ll try.”

Ewin’s gaze was oddly piercing. “You should speak to Yehanan, too.”

“I don’t need to speak to her,” Jared said. He hadn’t forgotten some of the remarks she’d made back at her house and nor had Ewin, judging by his sigh.

“She can be compassionate, you know. She was most apologetic when I told her what had happened to Shryke and Koel. I think talking to her will do you some good.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I won’t push it.” They paused on the steps to the squad-house. Jared could hear Kat and Lekko’s voices coming from inside. “But give it some thought, and I’ll give some more thought to your question.”

It felt like an unfair exchange somehow. Jared did not reply as he opened the squad-house door. The nature of what Ewin was suggesting he discuss with Yehanan was a far cry from anything he was actually prepared to discuss with her.


	14. Doctor

When it came to inspecting her patients, Yehanan was not as brisk and no-nonsense as Kat had feared she might be. In some ways, she did a better job than Ava of putting Kat at ease; there was something oddly reassuring about speaking to a near-total stranger. As they sat on the roof of the squad-house — a place of relative privacy compared to the busyness of downstairs — Kat had to restrain herself from telling Yehanan more than just the answers to her questions.

“How is your food intake?” Yehanan said.

“I’m eating well. I think. Felt a bit dizzy earlier.”

“Oh? What were you doing?”

Kat smiled sheepishly. “Thalen was showing me how to fight.”

“Was he now?” Yehanan had been taking notes while Kat was speaking. Now she looked up, wagging her pencil disapprovingly. “You should be taking it easy. Plenty of food, plenty of rest. Don’t let Thalen delay your recovery.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you menstruating?” The rooftop burned hot even through the soles of Kat’s boots, and there was no shade to escape into. Yehanan looked up at her lack of response. “Have you bled?” she said, as if she thought Kat didn’t know what menstruation was.

“Yes!”

“Ah. I’m sorry if that embarrassed you.” The pencil moved, writing scribbly cursive. “I take a rather pragmatic approach to things.”

Kat shrugged. She hadn’t even realised she still had the capacity to _be_ embarrassed by questions like that — not after half a year of being past caring. “That’s fine.”

“Now, as for the injuries you’ve sustained…” Yehanan set her notes aside. “I’d like to keep an eye on that bonedog bite for now. The wound runs quite deep and given the nature of what caused it… well, animals are vectors for all sorts. You said it happened two weeks ago?”

It was still hard to believe it had only been two weeks. “Yeah.”

“Two weeks to heal then, and it’s healing at the rate I’d expect. There doesn’t seem to be any serious damage to the underlying muscles, nor to the nerves, but if you notice new pain or any other changes then come straight to me, understood?”

“What about the Fogman?” Kat tilted her arm towards the sun. She could still just about see the dents from the small Hiver teeth. “That’s not a thing to worry about, is it?”

To her enormous relief, Yehanan shook her head. “I’ve seen patients who survived Deathyards, and I still see some of them on a regular basis. You won’t turn into a Fogman if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Kat chuckled. It had been a stupid fear, but a nagging one all the same. “And what about the burns?”

“All healing nicely enough. I’ll give you some exercises to help keep that hand functioning properly. As for the face, well…” Yehanan’s own face displayed pity for the briefest of seconds, before switching back to a more professional demeanour. “That scar will be permanent, although I’m sure you’ve realised that already.”

Kat had indeed realised it, but it still felt like a blow to the guts. Even if she somehow managed to escape from her dreams, she would always be shackled to Rebirth and to the paladins. “How obvious will it be?” she mumbled.

“It may fade a little more than that if you’re lucky, but the main part of the healing process is past. Just keep it nice and clean and try not to agitate it, and it should be fully healed up in six months to a year.” Yehanan paused. “Facial scarring can be difficult to come to terms with, especially when it’s something like a slave-brand. We often build our identities around our appearance, far more than we realise.”

“I guess.”

Yehanan looked back over her notes. “You said you’d been avoiding looking at your reflection.”

“Not _avoiding_ it exactly. Just…” Kat trailed off at Yehanan’s knowing expression. “I’m not someone who stares at herself in the mirror anyway.”

“Personally, I’d advise you to get yourself in front of one as soon as you’re comfortable doing so, even if you have to sit in a darkened room.”

“I’ll do that,” said Kat, but it felt like a lie. “Thank you.”

“And you’re very welcome, Kat. I’d like to follow up with you about your leg, as I mentioned earlier, but if you need to speak to me about anything at all you know where to find me. As for your recovery, please remember what I said. Some exercise is fine — _light_ exercise, mind you — but anything that works up a sweat, that’s no good. You’ll have to build back up to that. Now, I suppose it’s time to see the last patient on my list… Would you ask Mik to come up here, please?”

Mik was still reading when Kat went downstairs, but she groaned and tossed aside her book when she saw her. “Guess I can’t put it off, huh… How was it?”

“She seems all right. Nice enough.” Kat had just remembered Yehanan had referred to Mik as the last patient on her list. She knew for sure that Rei had not been upstairs yet and, as she glanced at her friend’s empty bed, she realised she was not in the squad-house. “Hey, you haven’t seen Rei recently have you?”

“Huh? Oh, no. Sorry.” Mik was already halfway up the stairs.

“Jared, have you—” Kat stopped. She’d thought he was just lying around, perhaps dozing, but he was fast asleep. A half-finished bowl of rice lay on the floor next to his bed. Kat stared at it for a moment. The others seemed to be recovering, however slowly, but Jared was still as pale and exhausted as Rei had been in Admag. “Spade? You seen Rei?”

“Uhhh…” Spade raised her head from her pillow. “Didn’t she take off right as Yehanan got here?”

“Spade! You should have said something!”

“Sorry,” Spade said, looking slightly guilty. “I was still half-asleep.”

Kat had been about to sit down and relax for the rest of the day, but her imagination was already running riot. “I should go and look for her, make sure she’s OK.”

“Want me to come with you?” Thalen said.

“I… are you sure?”

“Two people looking is better than one, right?” He was already heading towards the door. “Let’s go.”

Kat hurried to catch up with Thalen as they left the squad-house. She wanted to thank him for helping, but the words caught at her tongue. “I don’t know where she might have gone.”

“We could start by checking around here?”

“Good idea.”

They scanned the vicinity of the squad-house but there was no sign of Rei. As Kat stood and dithered, Thalen took charge and pointed down the main street. “I say we wander down towards the auction house,” he said, “and check the side streets as we pass. You’d be best off walking on my left.”

“Oh, yeah. Course.” She’d almost forgotten he was blind in one eye. “Let’s just hope she hasn’t gone the other way.”

“There’s not much down that way,” Thalen pointed out. “It’s mostly just the edge of the rig.”

“Yeah, but…” Kat bit her lip as more images leapt into her head. “Shit, she could have blacked out and fallen into the water…”

“Hey,” Thalen said quickly, “let’s not jump to _that_ conclusion just yet. We check town first, all right?”

“Yeah.” She forced herself to relax her shoulders. “You’re right.”

Flats Lagoon wasn’t massive, nor was it difficult to search. Most of the little streets on Kat’s side cut a clear line of sight to the edge of the rig. People were moving about, but not in large crowds. Kat did not see Rei among them.

“You feeling better?” Thalen said.

“Yeah.” She smiled faintly. “Yehanan told me off, you know.”

“Coz she’s a doctor and I’m a bad influence?”

“Something like that.”

“Sorry about that, by the way. I probably shouldn’t have offered.”

“No, I’m glad you did.” Kat squinted at a short-horned Shek woman who’d just walked past, but the woman was far older than Rei. “Besides, I wanted to.”

“Just don’t mention it to my brother. He’ll probably get mad at me.”

Kat raised her eyebrows. “Does Yari actually _get_ mad?”

“OK, OK. He’ll tut at me,” Thalen conceded. “And that’s almost as bad.” He turned his head towards the next street on his side and did not look back. “Wonder if I disappoint him as much as he annoys me.”

Kat hesitated, unsure if he wanted her to answer seriously or play it off as a joke. “Family stuff, it’s hard.”

“You got siblings?”

“No.” She stuck her hands in her pockets. “Well, not to my knowledge anyway. I was only small when my parents died, and my gran never mentioned any other kids of theirs. It was just me and my gran growing up. I sometimes wish I’d had ’em though.”

“You say that,” Thalen said darkly, “but at least you didn’t spend your childhood being shoved around by siblings who were bigger than you.”

“Oh. Yari’s not your only sibling?”

 _“Hah,_ no. Got a sister and three other brothers. But Yari’s the only one I’m close to.” He came to a sudden stop. Kat realised they were at the auction house. “Should we split? You go left, I go right?”

“Makes sense.”

As Thalen went off in search of Rei, Kat found herself dithering again. It occurred to her that even if she was the one to find Rei, there probably wasn’t anything she could say that would convince her to come back and talk to Yehanan. _There must be something. Even if she’s not dying, it’s still distressing her._

This end of the street was a little busier than the rest of the thoroughfare. People were setting up tables outside the auction house, and two Tech Hunters were trying to drape a string of small coloured flags above the building entrance. One kept dropping his end of the line, while his friend swore at him. Presumably, the town was getting ready for the new year celebrations in a couple of days’ time. Kat watched as the Tech Hunters finally triumphed over their bunting, then turned her back and set off again in search of Rei.

She hadn’t spent much time in this part of town, but the street was well-defined and there was no chance of getting lost. Kat picked up her speed, glancing down the little alleys between houses, but all she could see were clotheslines and heaps of scrap. She was nearing the edge of the rig when she noticed a forlorn-looking figure sitting in the shade of a flophouse. “Rei?”

“I’m fine.” Rei’s gaze was turned towards the cloudless sky and the murky lagoon waters. She was hugging her arms to her chest, even though the shade was about as hot as the sunshine. “Don’t worry. I’ll come back when she’s gone.”

“Rei…” Was there a forge nearby? Kat was sure she could smell hot, smoking iron. She knelt beside Rei, trying not to breathe through her nose. “Come on, talk to me. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t want to speak to her.” Rei’s fingers curled, making fists. “Not that _that’s_ any surprise to Jared. Talking to his friends about me.”

“What’s happened?” Kat said. If Rei’s expression was anything to go by, Jared was about to regret buying her boots with metal toecaps. “What did he say?”

“I heard him talking about me yesterday when he thought I was asleep. To his ex of all things.”

“His ex?”

“Mik.” The fists tightened. “He was telling her how I wouldn’t want to talk to Yehanan coz I didn’t want to look weak. Like he can read my mind or even knows anything about me. Well, he’s right about one thing. I’m not talking to Yehanan. Not now, not ever.”

What would be the best way to acquaint Jared with the toecaps? Would Spade back her up if she decided to kick him somewhere painful? “Yehanan might be able to help you, you know,” Kat said aloud. “She’s a doctor like Ava. And Ava was able to help you, wasn’t she?”

“It’s different. Things are different now. So much more complicated. The food and sleep, that’s made things better. But if I asked Yehanan for help in fixing the bits I can’t fix on my own…” She wrung her hands, looking agitated. “Yehanan doesn’t know me or what I did. What _we_ did. And how can she help me if she has no idea what caused this?”

Kat had just spotted Thalen out of the corner of her eye. She gestured for him to wait a safe distance away, well out of eavesdropping range, and turned back to Rei. “There might still be something she can do for the blackouts.”

Tears sprang to Rei’s eyes. “Yehanan can’t know that I’m sick at all. She can’t ask questions.”

“I don’t think she’ll push it if you don’t want to answer them,” Kat said, but Rei was already crying, silent tears spilling down her cheeks. “Can I hold your hand?”

“I don’t care.”

Kat held it. To her surprise Rei grabbed her wrist with her other hand and held on. “Everything’s wrong, Kat,” she whispered. “Everything’s wrong and I don’t know how to make it right again.”

“We just gotta hang in there. Give things a bit of time.”

“Time isn’t going to bring people back.” Rei’s fingernails were rough and scratchy. “It’s not going to free Ruka and Ava or put World’s End back to the way it was.”

“I know. But maybe it’ll soften things. Make them seem less shit.” Kat gave her hand a squeeze. “Things’ll be OK. But I don’t think you should wait to talk to Yehanan. I’m not so sure she’ll be suspicious if you don’t want to answer all her questions. Look at all our lot.” She lowered her voice, even though she was sure Thalen couldn’t hear them. “D’you really think any of us are gonna be telling her anything?”

“Probably not,” Rei admitted.

“Anyway, she sees people in private. Nobody’s going to listen in.”

Rei’s shoulders unbunched slightly. “I know.”

“Will you be coming back to the squad-house?”

Rei thought about it for a moment. “Not right now. But… would you stay here, please? Just for a bit.”

Kat glanced over at Thalen, who was watching from the other side of the street. _I got this,_ she mouthed at him. He hesitated, then nodded and walked away. As he disappeared around the corner, Kat wished she’d had the opportunity to thank him properly. “Have you seen all the birds?” she said to Rei, hoping to distract them both from their thoughts. “They look like waders. Must live around the water. I bet Lekko would know what they were.”

They sat side-by-side in the shade, watching the birds as they soared above the lake. A faint wafting stink rose from beneath the rig, but Kat was already getting used to the smell. Rei, who had spent the last few days indoors, wrinkled her nose.

“It’s not so bad,” Kat said.

“Do people really swim in that?”

Kat shrugged. “Honestly, the swamps are pretty disgusting too. You smelled them, right? And I had to swim in the water, to fix nets and stuff.”

“But Tech Hunters swim for fun, right?”

“Tech Hunters are weird.”

Rei smiled a little, but the smile quickly slipped. “What do you think’s going to happen?”

“Who knows? I guess we’ll have to find employment at some point if we want to stay in Flats.”

Rei dragged the heel of her boot across the rig. “I don’t know what I’d be good for. I guess mercenary work is what I’m used to, but who’d hire me when I’m like this?”

“Oh, yeah. You were brought up by mercenaries, right?”

“Yeah. We kind of wandered from place to place and found work in towns.” Her eyes misted over a little. Kat watched her covertly; it was rare that Rei ever elaborated on her background. “It was good while it lasted, but they knew I was a problem long before I did. I was too emotional, and not in the way Shek like. When things went wrong it affected me… badly affected me. Sometimes it’d cloud my judgement and I’d make the wrong call.”

“Hey, we all do that. Mercenaries included. You saw Thalen with that beak thing, right?”

“I guess. But I couldn’t inflict myself on anyone in this state. I’m still blacking out. And I don’t know what causes it.”

“I don’t know much about medicine,” Kat said, “but stress and trauma can cause a lot of freaky stuff.” She almost wanted to ask Rei if they could step away from the forge — wherever it was —but caught herself just in time. “How about the things you see?”

Rei twitched, and Kat knew she’d been too intrusive. “They’re still there,” she eventually mumbled. “In bits. I know none of it’s real. It was worse before, like it was feeding off fear. But now it’s just glimpses. Background noise.” One of the wading-birds settled on the edge of the rig, a small fish in its bill. When it noticed Rei and Kat, it took off again. Rei stared blankly at it as it flew into the sky. “I don’t know, maybe my head’s so cluttered there’s no room for it. Even Haga went kind of silent… but he wasn’t a _voice_ in that way. Most of the time he was more like bad thoughts that I put a bad face to. You know the ones, right? Thoughts that just sort of sit there and poke you and poke you and you can’t get rid of them.”

“Yeah,” Kat said quietly. “I know them.”

“Did you talk to Yehanan about them?”

It would have been so easy to lie, but Kat wasn’t sure she could face the additional guilt. “No, I didn’t. Look… it’s your choice. I won’t force it. But… she _is_ nice, Rei. Wasn’t even that judgey for the most part. I think you should give her a chance.”

“Maybe another time.” Rei let go of Kat’s hand and rested her head against the flophouse wall. “Don’t worry about me, Kat. I just need some time away from everyone else.”

Kat sighed; she’d been expecting nothing else, but it was difficult not to feel frustrated. “OK. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It was a lonely walk back to the squad-house, and Kat’s mood was not improved by the hot and sticky weather. Maybe Yehanan wouldn’t have been able to help Rei anyway, not without the full story… Kat thought back to Rei’s description of the thoughts she’d associated with Haga. They sounded an awful lot like the memories of World’s End and the knowledge of what had really happened… thoughts that would never go away no matter how much time they spent in Flats Lagoon. It couldn’t be good for any of them, carrying something like this around. Not her, not Rei and, Kat suspected, not the twins either. For Spade and Jared, lying to their old squad was probably akin to lying to family.

 _If Rei and I hadn’t been here, maybe they’d have told Ewin the truth. All they did was follow Rei after she set them free._ Tears sprang to Kat’s eyes, and with her shadow in front of her, she couldn’t even blame it on the glaring sunlight. It was selfish cowardice on her part, staying in Flats Lagoon in spite of everything she’d helped cause…

She was most of the way back to the squad-house when she noticed a blurry Yehanan walking down the street towards her. Kat sidestepped into the shadows but there was no need; Yehanan was looking at her notes as she strode past, and she gave no sign of having seen her patient. Kat took the opportunity to rub away the worst of the tears, and opened the door a little more forcefully than she had intended.

“Did you find her?” Jared said sleepily, as Kat entered the dormitory area.

“Spade,” Kat said, glaring at Jared, “can I borrow your brother for a second?”

“Oh… yeah, sure.”

Kat strode forward, grabbing Jared by the wrist. “You’re coming with me.”

“Wait, why?” Jared looked to Spade for help, but she just shrugged. “Some sister you are, letting me get kidnapped.”

Even though Yehanan was gone, there were still too many people in the squad-house. The two brothers were having a whispered discussion at the mess-table, and Mik and Ewin’s voices carried down from the roof. It was not a place Kat wanted to make a scene. “Just move.”

“All right, all right, I’m moving,” Jared said as they left the squad-house. “You can let go now.”

“Be thankful I’m not dragging you by the horns.” She closed the door, blocking any escape back inside, and dropped his wrist. “What have you been saying to Mik?” she whispered, aware that Mik was standing a few metres above their heads.

Jared blinked, looking completely lost. “What?”

“Don’t play innocent. I know you’ve been talking about Rei behind her back.”

“Oh.” Jared winced. “I didn’t realise she could hear us.”

“Let me make this clear, Jared. Rei’s problems are none of anyone else’s business unless she wants to share them, which you know she doesn’t. Not Ewin’s business, not Beanhop’s, not Yari and Thalen’s. And _especially_ not your damn ex-girlfriend’s.”

“She’s not my ex-girlfriend, we were never—”

“Even if I believed you, which I don’t, that’s not the point. Get your loyalties in order, coz Rei’s got enough on her plate without having to deal with people talking about her to outsiders.”

For a second she thought Jared was going to argue some more, and was fully prepared to argue back. But to her surprise, Jared’s shoulders slumped. “All right, yeah. Fine. You’re right. Sorry.”

“Apologise to Rei, not to me.” Now she’d said what she’d wanted to say, all she wanted to do was go back inside and put the confrontation behind her. She was about to do so when the memory of earlier stopped her. “Jared?”

“What?”

“You know we’re here to help each other. And that doesn’t just go for Rei but… you know, anyone who’s having a hard time of things. If you ever need to—”

Jared grinned. “You’re offering to be a shoulder to cry on? I appreciate the concern, swamp-lander, but I’m doing just fine.”

“I just thought maybe…” She trailed off. There was a slight glint in Jared’s eyes, and it was one she recognised. She’d seen it in Scrap whenever he’d sensed a threat. “Never mind.”

“Besides, don’t you have enough to think about?” His grin grew teasing. “Making eyes at your tricorn-wearing Scorchlander… ow!”

“Believe me, I was prepared to do worse.” She took her boot off Jared’s toes. “And he’s _not_ my tricorn-wearing Scorchlander. Is that what everyone thinks?”

The conversation on the roof paused for a moment. Kat’s cheeks heated; she had the sudden sense she’d said that more loudly than she’d intended. “I don’t like him like that,” she hissed at Jared, as if it was his fault she’d drawn attention to herself. “I don’t even _know_ him that well.”

“All right, I got it.” Still wincing, Jared massaged his toes through his boot. “If that’s everything, swamp-lander, I’m going back in. Got some lunch to—”

“You know what I promised!” The shout came from inside the squad-house, but the words were just as clear as they’d have been if Kat and Jared were in the room. It was immediately followed up with tones that were quieter, albeit just as angry. But the mood had evidently been set, because Thalen’s responding shouts completely drowned out whatever Yari had been trying to say.

“And _you_ know what? I’m sick of having to listen to you going on about _promises_ —”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.” That was Ewin’s voice, accompanied by the rattle of the stairs. “Boys, boys. Let’s cool it before we say something we regret.”

“—because you know how much it _fucking hurts_ to feel like I’m some _burden_ that Mam put on your shoulders?”

Kat glanced at Jared. The little colour that had been in his face had disappeared, and his eyes were slightly too wide. But before she could ask him if he was all right, he’d thrown open the squad-house door and hurried inside.

Kat followed Jared as far as the doorway, and stopped short. The house was a scene of chaos; everyone was packed into the mess-area to watch the fight, while Ewin tried to hold Thalen back. Even Mik, who seemed the most likely person to enjoy a good argument, was looking worried. When she saw Jared, she hurried up to him and put her hand on his arm. _“Don’t_ get involved.”

“A burden?” Yari clearly had better emotional control than Thalen, but Beanhop was standing nearby and looking wary. “And this is _exactly_ why you’re self-centred, because in the five years we’ve been freelancing you _never_ thought to ask why I left Clownsteady with you!”

“Because you’re some wannabe-Phoenix who always does what his mammy tells him!”

Yari just stared him down. “You really are an ungrateful brat, aren’t you? If you’re going to disregard everything I say and everything I’ve tried to do to keep us both alive, maybe you should follow through on what you’ve threatened every time we’ve ever had a disagreement. Go it alone. See how long you last…”

In spite of his weakened state, Jared moved fast. One moment he was standing next to Kat, with Mik’s restraining hand on his arm. A moment later he’d pushed past them both and grabbed Yari by the lapels of his coat. Before Kat could do anything to stop him — not that she’d anticipated sudden violence from Jared — he shoved Yari up against the wall, still gripping his coat. “That is your _brother_ you are telling to go to his death. How would you feel if he left because of your words and never came back?”

Ewin had already let go of Thalen and was hurrying to separate Jared and Yari. But Spade got there first, and Jared allowed her to pull him away. Yari stood where he was, pale and shaking. Thalen was staring at Jared. The hostile atmosphere had become a stunned one. Nobody moved or spoke.

Finally Ewin broke the silence. “Spade, Mik, take Jared outside. _Now!”_

Kat wanted to move, but she had no idea which way to turn. Then she felt Lekko’s hand slide into hers, and she and Pia were pulled up the stairs to the roof. “This isn’t our fight. Come on, let’s go. Let Ewin sort it out.”

Downstairs, Yari and Thalen’s argument had become a subdued silence. Kat looked over the parapet and saw the rest of the Tech Hunters gathered around the twins, who were sitting on the steps. The top of Ewin’s head moved as he spoke to them, and Spade’s lips moved as she answered. None of the voices were loud enough for Kat to be able to tell what was being said.

“Let’s not gawk,” Lekko said, but she lingered for a moment as she pulled Kat away.

Pia was sitting with her back against the parapet, hugging her knees. A single tear-track smeared each cheek, and her eyes and nose were reddened. Lekko sat down beside her, saying something that was obviously meant to be comforting, but Pia turned her face away.

It was a long few minutes. Kat perched on the opposite parapet, trying to process what the hell had just happened. She’d known Jared to be angry before — she still hadn’t forgotten his coldness when he’d accused her of having a false sense of moral superiority — but never to the extent of laying a hand on another person in his fury. Even in Flotsam, she knew it had been Spade who’d thrown that punch and not Jared. _Surely something must have provoked him._

“I’m going to check on Yari and Thalen,” she said and, taking Lekko’s lack of response for assent, went back into the squad-house. Thalen was lying on his bed, his face buried in the pillow; Yari was sitting at the table, staring blankly. Kat hesitated, then approached Yari and pulled up a chair opposite him.

“Are you hurt?” she said.

He shook his head. “Just… wasn’t expecting…”

“None of us were,” Kat said, but she was sure her words weren’t true. Hadn’t Mik tried to pre-empt things by telling Jared not to get involved?

“I know I shouldn’t have said what I said… I just…” He stared past her into the sleeping-area. Kat glanced behind her, but Thalen had not moved. “No, there’s no excuse. I just wasn’t expecting things to kick off the way they did.”

The squad-house door opened, and Ewin came in. He let out a noise than was more of a groan than a sigh, and leaned against the wall of the mess-area. “Well, I should have seen that one coming,” he muttered, as if to himself.

“We didn’t mean to cause trouble,” Yari said in a small voice.

“I know. Things got out of hand.” Ewin peered into the sleeping-area, his brow furrowing at Thalen’s still form. “I’ve seen a lot of sibling arguments. You two aren’t the first, and you certainly won’t be the last. But even if you and Thalen do decide to part ways, don’t do so on bad terms.”

Yari was already pushing his chair back, heading towards Thalen. “I know.”

“And Yari…” Ewin visibly hesitated for a moment. “I’m not trying to excuse Jared’s actions, but I know his intentions. At least hear him out when he apologises, yeah?”

“I will.”

“Good lad.” Ewin caught Kat’s eye. “I’m sorry you were caught in the middle of everything,” he said to her.

Kat shrugged. She wanted to ask what had happened, but one look at Ewin was enough to convince her to stay well away from it. Still, today had taught her one thing. In spite of everything they had been through together, she had realised she did not know the twins anywhere near as well as she’d originally thought.


	15. Torment

It was difficult knowing what to think or how to feel. Ava had barely slept the past few days, her mind veering about all over the place like a man trying to ride a gutter. Even her preferred dissociative state had not been distanced enough to fully tune it out.

Ava had always liked to think her moods were relatively stable, her opinions on various matters consistent. But recent revelations had twisted her thoughts into knots, thoughts that sprang into her head unbidden when they finally freed themselves. Okran’s existence. Okran’s nonexistence. Rei’s death, Ruka’s possible death, the deaths they’d caused those in World’s End. The fact she was sharing a cellblock with someone she despised. The fact she _didn’t_ despise him. It was impossible to make sense of it all. Ava had given up trying and had simply lain there, waiting for the thoughts to pass.

The thoughts had subsided a little, but they hadn’t passed. Maybe this had been a long time coming, and her mind was simply too exhausted and broken to fight them anymore. Sometimes she found herself laughing from the ridiculousness of it all, and the only thing that could sober her up on those occasions was the suggestion she had finally, totally lost it.

“And you’ve been here how long?” said Valtena after one of her fits. “Do you even remember?”

Ava scrunched her face up, her hands going to her ribs. They seemed to have healed, but laughter still brought on the occasional stab of pain. She certainly found herself taking shallower breaths than she might have done in freer days. “Eight weeks, maybe. Or seven. You know, I’m not even certain.”

“Two months.” Was that sympathy real or performative? She hadn’t been so sure he was capable of even the feigned pity of the zealot. “Perhaps less. And it’s gotten its hooks in you.”

“You mean I’ve gone mad.” She probably looked mad. “It’s only downward from here, right?”

“Perhaps so.”

“There are people in this place who’ve been here fifteen years. I don’t know how they’ve survived without going completely insane.” Luquin had done his best to keep himself active; he must have done the same with his mind. Or maybe the Vault had gotten to him as it had gotten to her and the screaming prisoner, and he was just better at hiding it. “I don’t think I’ll be here in fifteen years.”

“You’re not even thirty yet, are you?”

“Age doesn’t have much to do with it.”

A little silence. Finally the Inquisitor said, “How did you do it?”

“Do it?”

“Your father trained you to be a doctor. Didn’t the High Inquisitor ever step in?”

“I… mostly acted as a helper to my father, at least with the paladins and Holy Chosen.” He wasn’t the first to have asked that question. She’d spent plenty of time wondering how she’d gotten away with practising medicine for as long as she had. “When it came to the women… well, a lot of male doctors won’t treat them. Seta wasn’t exactly happy that I was doing it, but then I saved the wife of an Inquisitor underneath him and… I guess after that I was tolerated. I don’t know. Things were getting pretty dicey even before my father’s heresy was uncovered.”

“From the way you’ve spoken of your father, it sounds as though you still approve of him.”

“He was my _father._ We’re called to love our fathers. And besides, I don’t think anything he did was harmful to the Okranite religion. He owned some books, but he still loved Okran and went to the temple every Prayer Day…”

“All the same, Narko probably poisoned his mind. And yours too, since I don’t doubt you looked into them.”

“Inquisitor,” Ava said, “have you ever read a forbidden book?”

“I—” Valtena spluttered a little. “I have _seen_ them—”

“But you haven’t ever opened one to see what was inside it. Isn’t that what Inquisitors do, investigate things? Isn’t the Holy Nation built on the forgotten technologies only contained within ancient documents?”

“That’s not true…”

“I’d go so far as to say, Inquisitor, that some of those buildings you’ve probably got in the Shield can’t be reconstructed with a modern knowledge of engineering. I know it’s true for Stack and Inquisitor Seta’s old stationhouse. And some of my medical knowledge — knowledge that is common to _all_ doctors, before you accuse me or my father — dates back to the empires of old. I daresay you have some scars yourself, Inquisitor. So tell me, would you have burned the books that originally contained that medical knowledge? The same medical knowledge that has saved many of your men, if not yourself?”

“This is why I don’t speak with women.” But Valtena’s voice faltered a little. “Look, you may think I make the rules, but in truth I mostly just enforce them. All our wisdom is handed down to us from the Holy Lord Phoenix, blessed be his name.”

“Blessed be his name,” Ava echoed automatically.

“You wouldn’t believe the things that get confiscated in the Shield. I’ve seen travellers trying to pass through with hashish, despite the fact it’s illegal for miles on both sides. We’ve detained people with propaganda posters decrying the Holy Lord Phoenix — blessed be his name — and people who were trying to smuggle _Skeletons_ through from the desert. I simply don’t have the time to comb through every book that isn’t on the approved list, and my men don’t have the experience. What we _do_ have is rules, and if people don’t like them then there’s nothing forcing them to stay in Holy Nation territory.”

“Unless they’re slaves, of course.”

She was sure she heard him wince. “Servant, please.”

“You say you don’t approve of slavery, but Lower Servants are slaves in everything but name. Maybe Rebirth is different, I’ve heard no more than rumours about that place, but you profit off the labour of the people in the holy mines just as the United Cities profits off the labour of the slaves in _their_ mines. Only difference is, they call it like it is. Can’t say they aren’t honest on that front.”

“However did you survive as long as you did? Surely Seta would have had you _sent_ to one of those mines if he’d caught so much as a second of your talk.”

“Because I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut.”

“Hmm. And now you’re here you say whatever you want, and I have to listen to it.”

“But have I been wrong on anything I’ve said?”

“You know, you could have been far freer to speak your mind in the United Cities… and yet you ended up here all the same.” For the first time, there was genuine curiosity in his voice. “I’ve never asked. What did you do?”

Was it better to lie, or to be open with the truth? Ava decided to take a middle path. “I freed some slaves. I don’t believe anyone should be forced to work for another. No matter how justified society feels it is.”

“You realise some of those slaves you freed were probably criminals, don’t you? As abhorrent as slavery is, you released them back into the world.”

“They weren’t criminals. There are manhunters in the desert, picking on the weak—”

“And you believe all of them were innocent? None that claimed to have been kidnapped or framed for something, but were just as guilty of crimes as those seeking redemption in the holy mines?”

Ava bristled. “And this is how the High Inquisitors think, is it? That anyone who ever does anything wrong should pay for it for the rest of their life?”

“It’s not at all how I think. I’m simply interested in _your_ thinking. For a woman, I’d thought you remarkably in control of your emotions. Was I mistaken?”

“Oh, I’m in control all right. I don’t lose my head and start screaming about Skeletons the moment someone says or does something I don’t like.”

“I see,” said Valtena.

Now she had bitterness in her head, tangling with and confusing her other thoughts. Although Haga’s murder weighed on her conscience from time to time, she’d never felt guilty about the act of having freed the slaves. But with an _Inquisitor_ questioning her actions, whether sincerely or not… She took a deep breath. “I apologise,” she said stiffly. “I didn’t mean to offend you with my femaleness.”

Valtena chuckled, and then laughed. He quickly stopped when the guards’ boots threatened to enter their cellblock. “I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to a woman for this long before.”

“Don’t you have a wife?”

“Well… I _did_ have one, but as far as I know I was the only Okranite to survive the Shield.”

“I’m sorry.”

“We were strangers to each other. High Inquisitors don’t tend to choose their own wives, if they make it to the position of High Inquisitor and are still unmarried. The Holy Lord Phoenix — blessed be his name — chooses them for us. All I knew about her was her name and that she came from a good family. She may have had a child on the way, but I’ll never know.”

“I see.”

“It would have been preferable to marry before I had my wife chosen for me, but I suppose I was holding out for something unattainable.”

“Unattainable.” Ava breathed out loudly through her nose, almost but not quite a snort. “You come from a culture where men give their wives into slavery if they don’t live up to expectations, and yet most men still have wives. What were you looking for that you couldn’t find in the Holy Nation?”

Silence. This time Ava _did_ snort. “Really?” she said. “You were holding out for some intellectual equal who wouldn’t… I don’t know… have been terrified into silence by the fact you were about to become the High Inquisitor? Yeah, I’d have said that _was_ unattainable.”

“I detect a certain cruelty in your words.”

“The world is full of cruelty, as are the Inquisitors.”

“I realise Seta may have put you through a lot, but can you blame him? Like I said earlier, we have rules. We have laws. Perhaps your father did you a disservice by expecting you to stay in the Holy Nation with him.”

“We feared Okran, and we wanted to do good works and help the paladins.” The thought of running away had certainly crossed her mind several times, if not her father’s. She’d had several paladins threaten her when she’d come near them with bandages. “We saw that as our duty.” Even her father’s dream of finding ancient science books had been more for the medical benefits than anything else. “But nothing we’d done _right_ mattered when the paladins broke down our door.”

“It’s the way of things. For what it’s worth, I don’t think either of you were evil. Just misguided.”

Ava had to resist the temptation to say his words weren’t worth a whole lot. Instead she scratched at her itching face and wondered if either of them would be getting fed today. “While we’re on the topic of bad things, I have a feeling this place is going to get worse for us.”

“You think so?”

“The Holy Nation does anything anywhere in the United Cities, the guards will be even more on edge than they are now. Or maybe they won’t even need an excuse to take it out on us.” All she could do was cross her fingers and pray the guards did not take things out on Ruka as well. “Still, you might get lucky. If they need a hostage for negotiations or want to swap one important prisoner for another.”

“Being used as a bargaining chip,” Valtena said contemptuously. “I’m not sure how lucky that would be.”

Ava scratched some more and felt the skin break under her roughened nails. The blood was sticky under her fingertips, smearing across her face when she moved her hand. “Luckier than anything that’ll ever happen to me, that’s for sure.”

“Whatever Okran’s will may be, I can keep you in my prayers.”

Ava lowered her hands to her chest, feeling the slight unevenness of her sides as she breathed in and out. The thought of having an Inquisitor offer to pray for her with genuine compassion was nearly enough to set off the manic laughter once again.

* * *

“You know,” said Spade, “I thought I was supposed to be the hot-headed one.”

They were leaning against the outer wall of the Drunken Gutter, listening to the muted conversation coming from inside. It was early in the evening, an hour or so before the crowds were due, and the streets were still relatively empty. Jared glanced over at the door, wondering if he should just take the plunge and go inside. “Yeah, I know. Do we have to keep bringing this up?”

“I’m just saying you could have handled it better.” Spade stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Then we wouldn’t be standing out here, procrastinating an awkward conversation with a freelancer who can’t work out why you got so invested in his damn argument.”

“OK, OK. This isn’t _we.”_ Jared scowled at her. “As you’ve reminded me a hundred times already, this entire situation is my fault and I’m the one who has to apologise for it.”

“So are you going in?”

“In a minute.”

Spade shrugged, although Jared was sure the word _coward_ had shot through her brain as surely as it had his. “Anyway, it’s like I said in the Stenn. We have each other’s backs. You were there for me after I decked that stupid paladin and besides…” She grinned. “I’m hardly gonna say no to a few pints of grog if you’re buying them.”

“Hang on… since when was I buying? I said I’d buy _Yari_ a drink, not you. Besides, what happened to all that money of yours? You can’t have spent it all.”

“Nope. Saving it for when I want to buy new armour. I’m not wasting it on other people.”

“Or your own booze, it would seem.” At least it was good booze. Jared had drunk enough vaguely alcoholic piss-water to know Tech Hunter establishments were generally reliable. The sort of place you could happily drown your sorrows… “Fine, I’ll buy you the first drink.”

“I wasn’t planning on drinking much,” Spade said, and Jared stared at her disbelievingly. “What? I just think that after the last few days, we should rein it in for a while. No getting drunk, no hustling.”

“What did Ewin say this time?”

“Nothing.” She stared up at the early stars. “It’s just… we owe Ewin a lot for even taking us back in the first place. We both made mistakes, and I wouldn’t blame—” She broke off at the look on Jared’s face. “You’re not gonna mention Koel, are you?”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” The events of earlier had been painful enough for Jared. “It’ll be fine. I say sorry, I buy a drink, they go on their merry way and there’s no bad blood between us.”

“Well, I hope you’ve rehearsed your apology,” Spade said as she headed towards the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Hey, wait a moment! I haven’t—” But Spade had already stepped inside. Swearing to himself, Jared hurried to catch up with her. “Spade!”

The Drunken Gutter was almost as empty as the street, and half the tables were vacant. Jared remembered this establishment well enough. He and Spade had once sat at the table in the corner, nervously sifting through mercenary postings in the hopes of securing their first ever job with the Tech Hunters.

Times might have changed since then but the Drunken Gutter was the same as ever — same dents in the wall, same sticky floor, same bad-tempered barkeep Jared swore had some vendetta against them, or at least against freelancers. She glared at them now as they entered, a glare that did not let up even as Jared forced a grin. He was about to pause to take his bearings when he realised Spade had not stopped; she’d already seen Yari and Thalen at that corner table and was striding towards them. Jared groaned and hurried after her. The last thing he needed was for Spade to get there before him.

Thalen was the first to notice the twins. He nudged his brother’s foot under the table, and Yari looked up. Too late Jared realised that his own smile probably looked rather strained. “Yari, Thalen. Evening.”

“Hi,” Yari said guardedly.

“Uh, can I talk to you Yari?”

The brothers looked at each other for a moment. Finally Yari shrugged and stood up. “All right.”

They moved a short distance away from the corner, while Spade and Thalen engaged in a rather forced-looking conversation. Jared perched on a vacant table, instantly regretting it as the seat of his trousers found a sticky puddle of booze that had not been wiped up. “We were looking for you earlier. Ewin said we’d find you here.”

Yari’s left eyebrow rose slightly. Jared sighed; apologising never got any easier no matter how many times he had to do it. “I…uh… I came to say sorry. I overreacted.”

“That’s… OK,” Yari said, but he still looked wary. “We all did.”

“Look, can I at least buy you a drink or something?”

Yari’s freckles disappeared into a bloom of colour. “There’s no need. Honest. I haven’t forgotten you saved Thalen’s life. Let’s just call it even and forget this happened.”

“Great. Glad that’s behind us. Well, I promised Spade a drink, so…” He stood up with a wince. “Guess I’d better do that, huh?”

“You know, I might go buy my own drink. Since not all of us have brothers who follow through on drinks arrangements.”

They went up to the bar together. Jared ordered grog for Spade and a shot of the Mud Town sake for himself. This time both of Yari’s eyebrows rose. “You’ll want to be careful with the Mud Town. It’s strong even for sake.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jared said as he drained the cup. “So, you and Thalen made it up?”

“Yeah.” Yari glanced back at the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Jared saw Spade hurriedly look away, as if she hadn’t been eyeballing them both. “I guess we could stick around a few more days than we’d originally planned but… we’re still at a bit of an impasse. At least we’ve talked things out like adults. Suppressing all that stuff… yeah, you saw for yourself how explosive things got.”

“Yeah,” Jared said heavily, thinking of Spade. “Yeah, it’s good to talk things out.”

“Thanks for the advice, by the way. I guess it kind of worked out in the end.” Yari ran a finger around the rim of his cup and grimaced. “Oh, that’s dusty.”

“You got a problem, blondie?” the barkeep demanded.

Yari’s face, still flushed from earlier, turned a deeper shade of pink. “No. Sorry. Let’s go.”

As they were making their way back to the table Jared said, “You know the conversation we had earlier today? You said you’d hardly gone home at all in five years.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you thought about going back to Clownsteady for a bit?”

“I…” Yari stared at his cup. “No, not really. Neither of us really miss the place.”

“It’s like that, huh?” Jared said sympathetically.

Yari stopped walking. They were still out of earshot of Spade and Thalen. “I didn’t just go with Thalen because I felt responsible for him. I wanted to get away too. I guess it all kind of worked out, in that regard.” He smiled faintly. “Sorry for offloading. I – I don’t make a habit of it, I swear.”

“Nothing wrong with it.”

“I realise you and Spade probably have other plans but… if Tay’s all right with it, you can always come and sit with us for a bit.”

“Thanks, but I should probably spend some time with Rei this evening…” _Shit._ He definitely owed Rei an apology too. “On second thoughts, there’s always tomorrow.”

Spade grinned up at Jared as he handed over her cup of grog. “You know, I wasn’t entirely expecting you to make good on that promise.”

“Who do you think I am?” Jared said, feigning hurt.

“You really want me to answer that, bro?”

The table wasn’t really built for four people, and it was a slight squeeze to accommodate them. Still, the brothers seemed glad of the company, and the initial awkwardness had all but melted away. Jared reached into his pocket for his cards and shuffled the deck. “Anyone up for Ninja Blades?” he said.

Thalen leaned across the table, whispering something in Yari’s ear. Yari’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Jared’s deck of cards. “You know something, I don’t think we ever finished teaching you how to play Lam.”

Jared smiled faintly. Lam hardly made his list of preferred games, but Yari’s offer was as good as a handshake of peace. “All right. Let’s do that then.”

They spent the next hour playing Lam. Perhaps it was just due to his lack of familiarity with the rules, but the usual temptation to cheat barely crossed Jared’s mind at all. In fact very little seemed to cross his mind over the course of multiple rounds; each card felt much the same as the one that came before it, grey rectangles that were still slightly water-damaged from the Floodlands. The corners of each card were looking far more scuffed and dog-eared than he remembered them.

“Wow, you’re shit at this,” Spade said.

Jared shrugged as Thalen scooped the cards back into the deck. He’d been playing his cards mostly at random, and the tricks he’d won had been a matter of dumb luck. “Even a master has his off days.”

“If you say so,” Spade said with a grin. “If we were playing with stakes, Thalen would have all your money by now.”

“Yeah, probably.” The Mud Town hadn’t quite gone to his head, but he felt no better for it. Jared held up a hand as Thalen went to reshuffle. “I think I’m done with cards for the moment.”

“That’s fine. It’s your deck anyway.” Thalen handed back the cards. Jared took them with some hesitation, trying to ignore how strangely _familiar_ all of this was… “That was a good few games. Shame we don’t have Kat here. She seemed kind of interested in Lam.”

“Maybe you should invite her to play cards tomorrow evening,” Yari said.

“Ehhh… I guess I could… hey, don’t look at me like that!”

“I’m not looking at…” Yari trailed off, chuckling at the indignant look on Thalen’s face. “No need to be so defensive. It’s no bother if Kat plays.”

Jared almost smiled. His toes still felt bruised from where Kat had stamped her new boot on his foot. “I’m sure she’d say yes if you asked her.”

“You reckon?” Thalen was fiddling with a peeling strip of leather on his hat.

“Weren’t you two off doing something earlier?”

“Oh… yeah,” Thalen muttered, as the strip came away in his hand. “Just showing her how to fight and stuff.”

“Fight and stuff, huh?” Yari said.

“Shut up.”

Spade was grinning mischievously at Yari. “Hey, flatskin. That polearm of yours is pretty impressive. You should show me how you use it at some point.”

On second thoughts, maybe spending some time with Rei didn’t sound too bad after all. Jared stood up, stretching out his limbs. “C’mon, Spade. Let’s leave these guys to enjoy the rest of their evening.”

To his surprise, Spade went with him happily enough. She still smirked as they left the bar. “You looked more embarrassed than Yari back there.”

“Yeah, about that. You realise you got all the subtlety of a brick to the face, right?”

“Oh relax, brother. It’s just a bit of fun.” Her smirk widened. “I’ve never seen a guy blush that hard when a girl flirts with him.”

“You know he probably thinks we’re both darkened, right?”

“He can’t think we’re _that_ darkened,” Spade pointed out, “or he wouldn’t have anything to do with us. Besides, Ewin’s a full-on Okranite, and _he_ doesn’t see us as Narko-spawn.”

“Yeah, but Ewin’s weird.”

“Maybe.”

They passed along the main street, listening to the sounds of drunken Tech Hunters. Night had fallen while they’d been inside the bar, and Jared was thankful for the well-placed electric lights. Spade walked slightly ahead, her hands in her pockets. There was a slight saunter to her step that Jared hadn’t seen in a while.

“Spade,” he said.

The saunter slowed to a stroll. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Her breath hitched, just for a second. “What?”

“Sho-Battai. It was my fault.”

She stopped and spun on her heel, her eyes flashing. Jared took an involuntary step back. “I told you I wanted to forget it,” she said quietly.

“I know. But I can’t just forget it, Spade. I’m—”

“Don’t say sorry again.” Her left hand had already made a fist. “Just _don’t_ say it, Jared.”

“I wasn’t going to say it. I was going to say I’m an idiot.”

They stood a short distance apart, staring at each other as drunk Tech Hunters caroused in the distance. Jared barely heard them at all; all he could hear was his own heartbeat. “None of this would have happened if I’d just checked my damn pockets.”

Spade glared at him for a moment. Then her face suddenly crumpled and she turned away, staring at the street ahead. “No. It was my fault too. We were both idiots and we still are. We could have gotten out of that mess if we’d coughed up the cats, but…”

In his own guilt Jared had always overlooked that bit. When the guards had discovered the hashish, Spade’s immediate reaction had been anger — anger that had been entirely misplaced. And from that first reaction, their fortunes had changed. They’d been arrested, their money and possessions seized, and they had lost the chance to pay their way out of trouble.

“You see why I wanted to forget it, Jar?” Spade continued, her voice wobbling. “Because I fucked up just as much as you did. I burned all my bridges in World’s End, dragged you away from Ewin’s squad… and look where we ended up.”

“In Flats Lagoon, the sweetest cesspool this side of the Deadlands?”

His attempt at levity elicited the faintest of smiles from Spade. “I guess so. But you know the hell we went through to get here. Honestly, I never thought I’d see this place.”

“Me neither. After everything that’s happened to us… I guess this is the best ending we’re gonna get, huh?”

“Only songs have endings. We still have to decide what we want to do for the rest of our lives.”

They started walking again, side-by-side this time. Finally Spade spoke again. “Jared?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s weird for you, isn’t it? Those two…”

“Kind of. But it’s just not them. It’s this whole thing.” He shrugged. “I can’t see myself staying with the squad, Spade. Mik talked to me about it back at the waystation, but… I just can’t see it. Maybe I could still be a Tech Hunter, I don’t know. There’s just _too much,_ Padey.”

Spade’s expression changed abruptly. A broken mess, that was what she was seeing. Jared couldn’t even bring himself to smile. “Jared, have you spoken to Ewin?” she said with unusual gentleness.

“A bit.”

“You know he’ll understand.”

Jared shrugged. “I don’t think Ewin can help.”

“Even so.” She took him by the shoulder, forcing him to stop walking and look at her. The reflection of the lamplight swam in her eyes. “You know the last year has messed us both up. And Jar… I’m sorry I ever suggested things were easier for you than for me. It’s not true and we both know it.”

“I don’t know about that, Spade. Haga…”

She didn’t visibly flinch, but he felt her hand twitch on his shoulder. “If Okran exists, I hope he’s making Haga suffer.”

“Me too. And… we should talk about this stuff more with each other. I think we need to.”

“We really do.” The lights in her eyes were spilling out onto her cheeks in glassy tears. Jared hugged her, and she responded with a crushing embrace that nearly winded him. She relaxed it a little when she heard him gasp. “Sorry, bro. Force of habit.”

“You know, I sometimes think your hugs are a show of strength rather than affection.”

“I could always thump you like a proper Shek warrior if you prefer.”

“No thanks. I like my bones intact.”

They slumped against each other, Spade’s head on Jared’s shoulder. Jared realised they were clinging but couldn’t bring himself to be the first to let go. “Whatever happens, Spade… we’re staying together, right?”

“You know you mean more to me than all the rest of the Tech Hunters.” But Spade’s voice was sad. “I guess we gotta work things out. But we’ll do that together, like we always do. We know we can talk to each other.”

“Yeah.”

She slowly released him, though her hand squeezed his shoulder just for a moment. “I guess we got a couple of hours left in our evening. What d’you wanna do?”

Jared stared up at the Sentinels, shrouded by a slight haziness from the ashen clouds of Stobe’s Gamble. Stobe’s Gamble… He could still vaguely remember that conversation in World’s End all those weeks ago, when he’d met up with their old squad for the first time in a year. That conversation had been the first time he’d realised he’d lost much of his appetite for adventure. “I guess we’ve got a lot to talk about,” he said. “Let’s go find another bar. Preferably one that sells Mud Town.”

Spade nodded. “A few double shots of that sounds pretty good to me.”

“Just one thing, though.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Jared gave her his most charming smile. This time, it felt slightly more genuine than the forced smiles that had preceded it.

“You’re buying this time,” he said and, with Spade protesting indignantly beside him, they headed off in search of a good place to drink away what was left of the evening.


	16. Threat

It wouldn’t have been a gathering of nobles without the reek of hashish. Marisa had spent the last hour trapped indoors with the smoke, and was more than feeling the effects of the second-hand high.

Hashish was not the pleasant sensation Marisa had always been led to believe it was. It was difficult to see much appeal in the thick, stupid mind-fog that was currently doing its best to spin her brain in its skull. Worse still, she was sure the nobles in the palace had long been inured to the stuff, making it impossible to shake off the fear that she was somehow the least sober in the room.

She’d given up on trying to eavesdrop, knowing that her sense of subtlety was suffering just as much as her powers or retention. Even if she managed to overhear something intriguing, she knew there was no way she’d remember it in the state she was in. Words entered her ears and got lost somewhere in the middle, leaving her with the vague but paranoid sensation she had forgotten something important.

Even if the nobles were more sober than she was, they were certainly still high. Marisa just hoped _that_ in itself might be enough to put her beneath their notices. It wasn’t as if people had noticed her much in the start. Lord Aramid hadn’t been wrong when he’d said the nobles would be ostentatiously dressed; jewel-encrusted robes swept the floors, and ridiculous-looking hats tottered on heads like dazzling towers. By contrast, the moody lighting meant that Marisa’s pale pink robes blended perfectly with the palace curtains. She had never been so glad to be underdressed.

The sun had been low when Marisa had arrived at the palace. She guessed it was probably twilight now, or maybe the stars were fully out. She peered around the veil she’d been standing next to, trying to make out the shape of the door past all the smoke. As much as she wanted to escape into the fresh air, Lord Aramid was nowhere in sight, and Marisa had the horrible suspicion she might be refused re-entry if she so much as went on the terrace without a noble escorting her. Part of her was tempted to go and look for him, but he surely wouldn’t be impressed if he saw how intoxicated she was…

“Hey, I know you. You’re that woman.”

The voice was slow and fumbling. Marisa turned to find herself almost nose-to-nose with a young man in shining blue garb. The lighting might not have been good, but she could tell he was a noble and not one of the palace staff. She took a slight step back so she could bow without colliding with the jewelled buttons on his chest. “My lord.”

“The woman with the – the…” The young man trailed off, his eyes moving as he tried to remember. “The… you caught the murderer.”

Which lord was she speaking to, Marisa wondered frantically. Lord Aramid had done his best to familiarise her with the names of all the nobles who’d be in attendance, but the hash smoke was blotting out her memories. She didn’t remember having seen him at either of the councils, which meant he had to be a lesser noble. “That’s correct, my lord,” she said cautiously.

“Doctor woman. There were two of ’em, right?” He lurched forward. Marisa realised her back was now touching the velvet curtain, which was a lot more solid than she’d previously appreciated. “Doctor woman… and a, uh, a Shek. Shek woman. Weren’t there others as well?”

“Yes, my lord, but we never found them.” She’d wanted to wait for the others to reveal themselves or, failing that, to go up on the cliffs and look for them herself. If only they hadn’t encountered the samurai they might have had a chance at capturing the lot. “It was suggested the group split at the stone camp after murdering Slave Master Haga.”

“Huh, Haga… weird man.” His breath was hot and smelled like hash smoke. “I heard the doctor cut his head off. With her – her doctor’s kit… thing. Did she try and cut yours off too?”

He was too close, far too close, and her back was now firmly pressed against the curtain. Marisa fumbled behind her, searching for an opening, but her hand met with nothing but velvet. Sobriety swept into her system like a cold bath as he seized her scrabbling wrist, twisting it just enough to make movement painful.

“My lord,” Marisa began, but stopped. He already knew she wasn’t a noble. As far as the palace hierarchy was concerned, she was close to the bottom. _He’s a lord. He can do what he likes, and I won’t be able to lift a finger to stop him._ She looked around desperately for help, but the faces that surrounded them were blank and featureless. “My lord—”

His other hand was clumsy, but its movements were anything but vague. Marisa wasn’t sure she could have moved even if the curtain hadn’t been behind her. She realised with an icy jolt that he’d pushed her back into the folds of the curtain, and she could no longer see the faces of the partygoers.

The sash Cassie had helped her fasten suddenly loosened, and Marisa’s mind began to race. Not just for her imminent safety, but the thought of being seen like this… If this lordling was called on his behaviour, he would deflect before he took any responsibility. She fleetingly remembered the time a peasant had crossed Lady Sanda’s path just as she’d stumbled, and Lady Sanda had accused the woman of knocking into her. Things had not gone well for that peasant afterwards. “My lord, please—”

“Lord Raiden.” The commanding voice laced with coolness didn’t exactly stop the young noble in his tracks, but his movements slowed a little. The corners of his mouth turned down in a petulant crescent as he turned to see who had spoken. Finding his grip loosen on her wrist, Marisa scrabbled to refasten her robe. “Lady Kaiya is most perturbed that you have not been by her side this evening.”

Lord Raiden swore under his breath. “Stupid bitch.”

“Shall I tell your wife that you were inflicting yourself on this peasant girl, or would you rather go to her now and see that she has your full attention for the remainder of the party?”

“All right, all right!” he snapped and, to Marisa’s relief, he wobbled away into the crowd.

Marisa looked up at the person who’d come to her rescue, her arms still crossed over the robe she’d clumsily tied shut. A noblewoman with sharp eyes and tidy dark hair, wafting away the hash smoke with a fan. “Lady Emika.”

Lady Emika let out a tut, fanning smoke as if nothing had happened. “I wouldn’t have called that the best way to ingratiate yourself with nobles, my dear.”

Marisa quickly bowed; Lady Emika was undoubtedly referring to Lord Raiden, but there was something more pointed in her voice which suggested Marisa had forgotten her manners. “No, my lady.”

“Every year.” Lady Emika shot a hard look in the direction Lord Raiden had disappeared. “ _Every_ year he inflicts himself on some girl while his wife cries at the side of the room… Well, it would seem you really do attract a lot of attention. A little chat. Woman-to-woman, if you will. And let’s get out of this room. The smoke is ghastly.”

Marisa followed, not that she had much choice. Although Lady Emika’s robes were long and form-fitting, she moved with a subtle elegance Marisa couldn’t have matched even if her legs hadn’t been shaking. She stayed as close to Lady Emika as she could, pretending the other woman was a shield that might stop her snagging the eyes of any other nobles. Eventually they reached the exit and stepped onto the outside terrace. It was still twilight.

“So, you’re a dog without a master,” Lady Emika said as she peered over the fenced edge of the terrace. Past that secure fence, down in the town, the streets were lit up for the new year celebrations. Anyone who got too close to the guards stationed at the palace was swiftly moved on, but the commoners had spread their party right down the main street, and peasants walked almost directly beneath them. “Where _is_ Lord Aramid? I wouldn’t have thought him a man to allow his household staff to run around unsupervised.”

“I don’t know, my lady. I haven’t seen him recently.” Marisa lowered her eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She could still feel the shape of Lord Raiden’s hands. He’d probably left sweaty handprints on the delicate silk. “My lady, thank you for—”

“Do you always speak out of turn?” Lady Emika interrupted.

“I’m sorry, my lady. Please forgive my rudeness.” There was a wobble in her voice that she didn’t like at all, and she had to resist the urge to look back and see if Lord Raiden had followed them outside.

“I realise we may not have gotten off to a good start,” Lady Emika said, and Marisa looked up in surprise. Lady Emika’s gaze was still focused on the street below, the lights reflected in her eyes. “As you know, it’s not common practice for nobles to associate with household staff. Clearly, Lord Raiden thought you an exception… and of course, Lord Aramid as well. I suppose I can see why. You are not unattractive.”

“I… thank you, my lady.”

“I expect you have already heard it from Lord Aramid. He seems the type to flatter and pay compliments.”

A warm blush — the first real heat she’d felt since Lord Raiden had approached her — spread across Marisa’s face. Lady Emika smiled thinly but did not wait for an answer. “Do you see those people down there, Marisa?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And what are they doing?”

“They’re having a party, my lady. They’re celebrating the new year.”

“Indeed. Celebrating. Heft is one of the most prosperous cities in the empire. These people are able to celebrate because they are well-fed, content… and safe. Their wellbeing falls to the nobles, as you well know. The people of a town reflect their lord or lady… and perhaps also, the lord or lady reflects the people.”

Marisa stared blankly at her, and Lady Emika let out a little sigh. “You know, Marisa, I’ve heard good things about your loyalty from Lady Sanda. It’s such a shame she never attends these events. I would have liked to speak with her… Just remember that your first duty is to the emperor and the United Cities, no matter how many times your master calls you pretty. I’m sure you already know that.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I expect he calls you intelligent as well, does he? Well, you have the look of someone who isn’t entirely stupid… which makes me wonder if you trust him.”

Marisa swallowed. “My lady?”

“If he’s everything he seems to be, trusting him is wise. Indeed, I would expect nothing less… But if he _isn’t?”_ She left a pause before continuing. “Just as the people down there reflect my husband and me, you reflect your master. The nobility pays far more attention to a lord’s servants than you might imagine. Do you understand what I’m saying now?”

Marisa thought she did, but she didn’t respond. She wished it was just the hashish responsible for her current state of slowness.

“Take a little advice from me, Marisa. Make sure you do the right thing by the United Cities. You wouldn’t want to make a mistake, however inadvertent your mistake might be. The penalty for that is far worse than being unconscious for six days.” And then she was gone, leaving the faintest hint of lavender in the space where she had been.

Marisa leaned against the fence, trying to clear the fog so she could think. She wasn’t entirely sure what Lady Emika had been trying to say, but her instincts were telling her she’d just been threatened.

After that it was difficult to enjoy the party — not that Marisa had been enjoying herself much beforehand — and even more difficult to shake off the sense that she was being observed not with detached interest but with suspicion. Did the rest of the nobility think as Lady Emika did? As much as Marisa wanted the hash to clear those thoughts away, all it seemed to do was make time slow down and trap her in a bubble of anxiety. Eventually she retreated to a corner and willed the evening to be over, no longer caring about much beyond getting out of this lecherous gutter nest she’d somehow wandered into.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Lord Aramid found her. Ten wasted minutes or a hundred, she’d still managed to do everything wrong this evening. “My lord, I’m so sorry,” she blurted before he could speak.

“I heard Lord Raiden has been harassing you.” His expression softened at the sight of her creased robes. “Are you all right?”

Lord Raiden. Lady Emika. Too much had happened, far too much… She breathed in, no longer caring that she was breathing lung-burning smoke. “He didn’t manage to do much,” she mumbled. “Lady Emika saw to that.”

“Lady _Emika?”_ he said, sounding stunned.

“She got him to leave and then took me outside—”

“I see.” The concern in his voice took on a harder edge. “To check on you?”

He knew something was up, or at least suspected. Marisa glanced around the smoky room, all too aware the walls — and the curtains — probably had ears. “Yes, my lord.”

“Let’s take a break from the party. There’s far too much hash in this palace for either of us to think clearly.”

Marisa had been expecting Lord Aramid to lead her back onto the terrace, but to her surprise they descended the curving ramp as well and passed the guards they’d seen on the way in. Once the samurai were behind them, Lord Aramid made a small and almost imperceptible gesture, and Marisa sensed rather than saw his ninja guards shadow them from the darkness.

“Don’t talk until we get home,” he cautioned her, putting up the hood of his robes.

They strode down the street, past rickety tables and posts draped with scruffy bunting. There were people everywhere, most paying no attention to the well-dressed strangers in their midst. Shek and human children, giddy at staying up late, chased each other around the tables, while friends and neighbours sat together with drinks and reminisced. Marisa had never felt such a strong sense of community as she did in that moment and, if the circumstances had been different she might have asked Lord Aramid if they could stay awhile. Being an ordinary commoner, able to enjoy a party without having to worry about putting a foot wrong, felt like far more of a luxury than all the silks and hash in Tengu’s palace.

By the time they were back in the noble-house, going back to the party was the last thing Marisa wanted to do. They sat at the table in the main room, the uncomfortable silence giving way to an almost companionable one, as Lord Aramid poured them two cups of sake.

“What happened?” he said, passing one to Marisa. “Lady Emika isn’t the type to show any compassion or concern for a woman who’s beneath her.”

“I got that impression too.” Marisa gulped down the sake and tried not to pull a face. It didn’t matter how many times she tried it; she still didn’t like it. “She told me I’m a reflection of the company I keep – or something like that anyway. It sounded like she was trying to… I don’t know. Threaten? Warn? Maybe warn both of us.”

“Perhaps,” he said, frowning into his cup. “What else did she say?”

“She said—” Marisa began, but cut herself off. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to talk to Lord Aramid until she’d had a chance to understand the meaning of what Lady Emika had been trying to communicate. “I don’t remember exactly. I’m sorry. My head really isn’t very clear at the moment.”

“Understandable.” The crease in his brows deepened. “She doesn’t trust us. That’s for sure.”

“Is she right not to trust us, my lord?”

“Noble interests rarely align exactly with other noble interests. You’ll always have infighting even among those who are ostensibly on the same side. It’s an unfortunate fact of life.”

Marisa fiddled with the cup. There was something in Lord Aramid’s response she found unsatisfying, though she wasn’t sure what. _Unconscious for six days._ She rubbed at the space where the stump of her leg touched the cool metal of the robotic replacement. Her leg had healed well given the severity of the infection… _surprisingly_ well. “My lord…”

“Yes, Marisa?”

She couldn’t ask; if she did, he’d know Lady Emika had gotten her hooks in her. “She’s definitely trying to intimidate us.”

“Yes, it does sound it. Again, people can be on your side in one respect, but against you in another.”

“But we _are_ on her side where it matters, aren’t we?” She kept her face as still as possible, trying to make it sound like she was requesting confirmation rather than issuing any sort of challenge. “Our first duty is to the emperor and the empire, just as it is for her.”

“Quite right.” He refilled her sake cup. “Are you afraid you might fail in that duty, Marisa?”

“Through foolishness, perhaps.” This time she didn’t touch the sake. As tempting as it was to drink away the fear that she may have already failed, her thoughts were foggy enough without adding any more intoxicants to the mix. “I’m not used to politics. I worry enough about making little mistakes. Bigger mistakes… well, it feels easy to do the wrong things and not know it. And there’s so much at stake, especially with the Holy Nation back at the edge of the desert.” She lifted her chin, meeting his eyes. “Why did you choose me?”

“Why did I choose you? Like I’ve said before, you were impressively shrewd for someone so naïve to politics. I saw potential… and of course, there was the little issue of Lady Sanda. I don’t doubt that she’d have disposed of you had I not stepped in.” He smiled at her lack of visible reaction. “You’re a commoner, and something of an outsider as far as the nobles of Heft are concerned… but still, you’ve spent years as a trusted member of a noble household. I think you underestimate the desirability of those skills… Of course, it’s also rather pleasant to have female company that doesn’t want to poison me.”

“You mean Lady Emika, my lord? You believe it was definitely her, then, that slipped poison in the food?”

“Perhaps her, perhaps an agent of hers. Or perhaps someone entirely unconnected. It’s difficult to know for sure. To be honest with you, I worry that Lady Emika’s variety of poisoning is less directly harmful and more insidious. Be on your guard around her.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He finished his drink. “Lord Raiden is a lecherous bastard. Whatever Lady Emika’s motives, I’m glad she stepped in.”

“So am I.” Her legs were still trembling under the table. “I hadn’t realised something like that might happen. I thought all the danger would come from… well, from words.”

“And I’m sorry you experienced it. Given what’s happened, I wouldn’t blame you if you preferred to say here tonight, rather than welcome the new year at the palace.”

“You don’t expect me to go back?” Marisa checked. “But what about—”

“It’s your choice,” he said firmly, and for the first time Marisa felt as though he were presenting her with a genuine decision that wasn’t just a test. “I’ll walk us both back to the party if that’s what you want to do.”

“I think I’d prefer to rest, if that’s all right.” Lord Raiden aside, the thought of going back into the clouds of hash smoke was slightly nauseating. “I wouldn’t want to make any mistakes.”

“That’s understandable. I must say, I hadn’t anticipated fumes quite as noxious as the ones in the palace this evening. Quite how the imperials stand it I don’t know.” He pinched the space between his eyebrows. It occurred to Marisa that he probably felt as groggy as she did. “I don’t suppose our absence will be missed and besides, this evening has already given me things to mull over.”

“It has, my lord?”

“I’m trying to anticipate what Tengu might be planning for my people. Not just the ones in the Holy Nation, but the ones living here in Heft. I don’t imagine Tengu would count me among their number, at least not right now… but Okranites in general are seen as the enemy. Someone like Lady Emika could weaponise that… Unfortunately, your notes on the subject were a little brief.”

Marisa stared at her sake cup. “I really am sorry about that, my lord.”

“Don’t worry about it. Having a scribe was better than having none, and there was still plenty to learn from the notes you took.”

The notes. As much as she’d tried to convince herself that it had been nothing, Marisa had spent sleepless nights trying to work out what he’d been doing with them. The words _unconscious for six days_ were still muddling around in her head. They felt like something to add to her list of things to worry about. “I’m glad they were useful at least.”

“Speaking of _useful,_ Tengu does seem to be rather interested in you. Capable across the board, was the phrasing I think he used. He certainly thinks you have desirable qualities… so who knows what might be in your future.” He smiled at her, and Marisa glowed for a second. “Maybe one day you’ll be where I am now, if you please him well enough – although I seem to recall you telling me that wasn’t where your ambitions lay.”

“I honestly couldn’t say, my lord. I haven’t thought about it much beyond our conversation.”

“For what it’s worth, Marisa, I think you’d make a good noble. You seem to have a better balance of detachment and compassion than most nobles I’ve met. When it came to your duties, such as those Lady Sanda set, you got on with them and carried them out to the best of your ability. But you also showed kindness to Cassie. If you ever decided you wanted to step up and try and get a foot in the door, I could help you with that. It’s difficult to do, of course — I don’t know any other nobles who weren’t born that way — but with Okran all things are possible.” He collected up the sake cups and gave them to Hesper, who’d just entered. “I’ll be awake for some time yet, but I plan to go to bed before the dawn. Come and find me if you need me.”

Marisa went to her room, intending to sleep off the hash smoke. To her surprise, she found the bed already occupied; Cassie was curled up on the mattress, looking for all the world like she’d just lain down for a rest and fallen asleep. Marisa was tempted to prod her awake but relented. She’d originally been intending to stay at the palace until dawn at the earliest, and she couldn’t really blame Cassie for seizing her opportunity.

In many ways Marisa was glad Cassie wasn’t awake, as the thought of having someone else undress her was enough to make her skin crawl. She yanked off the tight robes and threw them in the corner, hoping she’d never have to wear them again. Then she went into the bathing area, throwing water over herself and scrubbing any places she thought Lord Raiden might have touched. However much she regretted speaking to Lady Emika, the outcome would have been far worse if Lady Emika had stood on the sidelines with a smirk and watched it happen.

She didn’t bother with a towel, instead struggling damply into a clean tunic. The night air left chills across her arms and chest as she went up the stairs to the roof, but it felt oddly cleansing. She pulled up a stool to the edge of the roof and sat, watching the golden lights of the town and listening to the distant music and laughter of people enjoying themselves.

 _Lady Emika,_ she thought, and tried to shove Lord Raiden behind that thought. But Lord Raiden kept surfacing like a bloated corpse, stifling her other thoughts even as the chill sobered her up. The threat he’d posed was long past and Lady Emika’s more pressing… and yet…

Marisa buried her face in her hands. _Come on. Think._ She had to think, before she forgot it all… and before the light of day took the edge off the sense of danger. The answer was surely staring her in the face, but her brain was still slow, still so _stupid—_

_Fortuitous._

Marisa shivered at the word. She’d known the answer. She’d known, deep down, for a while now… and it had been Tengu who’d used the word and not Lady Emika. Slowly and almost unthinkingly, she unfastened the metal leg and allowed it to clatter to the ground. The sandy breeze kissed against the exposed stump, leaving no aches or pains beyond what she’d come to expect. Just cool, refreshing air and a wound that was mostly, if not fully healed. Marisa ran a hand over it, exploring the scars with her fingers. No indication at all that less than three weeks ago this very same wound had made her grievously ill…

She couldn’t ask Lord Aramid about it, or if she did, she’d have to accept he’d give her an answer that wasn’t necessarily trustworthy. But there was someone else… someone who had been by her side throughout all of this… someone who was currently snoring quietly on Marisa’s bed in the full belief her mistress was still at the palace.

Marisa secured the leg to the stump and stood up. The stars above the roof blinked down at her like cold, watchful eyes.

It looked as though she had a mute woman to interrogate.


	17. Knife

The handful of days leading up to the new year’s eve carried a restful peace that Jared hadn’t fully realised he needed. While it was true that the party had left a certain buzz in the air, people seemed to be taking the time to relax. They might still have had the look of slaves, but the group who’d left the stone camp had certainly lost some of that beaten-down aura. Even Rei was smiling more.

Whatever mental state the others were in, Jared wished he could have some of it. The livelier they became, the more energy he seemed to lose — and as suffocating as the walls of the squad-house felt at times, there wasn’t really anywhere in Flats Lagoon he felt like escaping to. It was easier to sit at the mess-table with a book, and escape into dull worlds of gearwheels and geography and accounts of historical events. Even then his eyes usually just skimmed the text without taking much in, as people laughed and joked from within that warm little bubble he wasn’t privy to.

He’d have dreaded the party, if he’d been able to dread. On the brief occasions it had crossed his mind, he’d wondered if he’d even go. Eventually he concluded that it was easier to go than not, especially with Ewin encouraging them all to get out of the house and have a good time. And so on the eve of the new year just before the party, as the buzz spilled into a real excitement and the others looked forward to a night where they could enjoy themselves, Jared found himself putting on a smile as Spade fussed over her horns.

“I hate looking at them… they’re so stubby.” She tilted the mirror a little and scowled at her reflection. “It’s like being a kid again and waiting for them to grow out, only they won’t.”

The slavers had left more to her horns than they had Rei’s. “They’re not that stubby.”

“They are. And they’re all rough at the ends because I never filed them.” She threw the mirror onto the bed. “Urgh, they look awful.”

“Why are you suddenly so stressed about your horns?”

“No reason,” Spade said, but her eyes shifted towards Yari. It took Jared a flat, dull second to realise he couldn’t summon enough energy to tease her about it. “Rei will be staying here, won’t she?”

“Couldn’t persuade her.” She was already asleep in spite of the noise going on around her. “I guess she still needs rest. And no crowds.”

“But you’re coming with us?”

“Might as well.” Now he thought about it, staying with Rei seemed the far more appealing option, but Spade was looking at him hopefully. “Change of scene and all that.”

“Well then.” A little smile tugged at Spade’s lips. “You owe me the first dance, in that case.”

“I don’t think I’ll be dancing.”

“Not even with me?” Spade said with a grin.

They were already dancing — dancing around one another with false smiles and a desperate pretence that everything was all right. Jared knew he was at least partly to blame for it; he’d already backtracked on his earlier words when he’d realised how much he’d worried her. “Spade…”

“Yeah?” Spade had already turned away, picking up the mirror for another round of hating her horns.

This wasn’t a time for saying whatever he’d been thinking of saying. “Do you still remember how to dance?”

Spade shrugged. “It’s just sword-fighting with less violence. I’m sure I can manage that.”

“You know, I think I had the right idea when I said I wasn’t dancing.”

“I did say _less_ violence.” She got up, searching for something, and came back with a stub of charcoal in her hand. Jared watched with vague amusement as she swept it around her eyes.

“Since when did you wear makeup?” he said.

“Shut up, Jar. I’m trying to concentrate.” She was using her off-hand, and Jared heard her swear as she poked herself in the eye. “Besides, it’s a party. I don’t want to look like I crawled out of a pit.”

Maybe he _did_ have the energy. “Still hoping Yari will show you his polearm, huh?”

She turned around slowly enough that it didn’t occur to him to duck away, and very deliberately smeared the charcoal across his nose. “Some of us like to take a little pride in our appearance from time to time.”

The distant but lively sounds of stringed instruments drifted through the walls. Spade wiped her blackened fingers on her blanket and stood up. “Well, it sounds like the party’s getting under way. Come on, let’s go before the other Tech Hunters drink all the booze.”

It wasn’t a party so much as a festival, Jared realised as they stepped onto the street. The town was almost as lit up as it had been in the daylight, with lanterns and braziers and torch-posts illuminating a path ahead. Decorations — mostly flags and scraps of cloth that had been hung from ropes — waved in a gentle breeze. The whole thing had a cobbled-together feel about it, the inevitable result of people pooling whatever they thought might be appropriate for the celebrations. Jared breathed in and detected the scent of roasting meats somewhere just off the main thoroughfare.

“So where’s the dancing?” Kat was already looking around, as if expecting to find furtive dancers in the shadows.

“Ahead.” Ewin pointed at the auction house at the end of the street, bright with lights. Silhouettes moved in front of the open door. “Only place big enough for it.”

Jared wondered how many of the partygoers were members of various Tech Hunters squads, and whether the ex-slaves were somehow gate-crashing. Did he and Spade count among those ex-slaves, or were they still Tech Hunters? Ewin seemed to regard them as members of his squad still, but that disconnect caused by slavery had never quite gone away…

“Hey.” Mik elbowed him in the side. Never one to pass up a party, she’d chosen to disregard Yehanan’s instructions to stay home and rest. “Fancy seeing who can get the most wasted tonight?”

“I don’t know.” The Mud Town sake had only left him feeling worse than before, begging the question of what appeal alcoholism even held. “I’m not sure I feel like getting drunk, to be honest.”

“Says the guy with a face like a wet day in Okran’s Pride. C’mon. You look like you need it.”

“Don’t need the hangover. And what happened to _never drinking again?”_

“Yeah, well. Bastard arm hurts. If it takes the edge off _and_ helps me have fun, I’m all for it.”

“You’re not drinking, Mik,” Ewin said from in front. “You know what Yehanan said. Those painkillers aren’t to be mixed with alcohol.”

“Well, that’s no fun,” Mik grumbled, but it was a grumble of resignation rather than rebellion. She looked up at Jared and suddenly squinted. “You have something on your nose.”

“I’m aware.”

The music and laughter hit them like a wave as they approached the auction house. A flood of warmth spilled out of that open door, carrying people with it. From the looks of things most of the partygoers seemed to have shown up in whatever clothes they’d been wearing earlier, with very few people dressed up. The mouth-watering smell of meats had been replaced with the slightly sour odour of too many bodies and not quite enough ventilation. Jared braced himself as they walked in, expecting huge crowds, but the room was still filling up and they were able to find a place to sit at the side without resorting to using their elbows.

“So much food,” Lekko said dreamily as she looked around.

Lekko wasn’t wrong. The sides of the room contained large buffet tables that had been filled with plates. Most of the foods weren’t remotely fancy — Jared could see jerky and meats, as well as a few big pots of rice for people to help themselves from — but it was more food than the former slaves had seen in a long time.

“Loman’s in Flats and his squad has a reputation for eating like gutters,” Ewin remarked, “so I’d advise you fill up before they get—” He broke off; Lekko, Kat and Spade were already stuffing their faces at the tables. “Before they get here.”

Yari brushed back his hair with his hands. “I think I’m going to mingle. You coming, Tay?”

“In a minute,” Thalen said. He was watching the table, and Jared thought he knew who he was looking at.

“Suit yourself,” said Yari, and disappeared.

They’d chosen a good moment to arrive. Several squads of Tech Hunters had entered just after they had, and there would be no leaving without a barrage of _excuse mes._ Jared recognised more than a few of the partygoers but their gazes slid straight over him, moving to Ewin instead. Once or twice those wandering eyes saw Ewin and shot back to Jared in unsubtle surprise. Jared stared back coolly, silently daring them to come over and make some unsolicited comment about his appearance.

“Here.” A bowl was pushed into Jared’s hand. “I thought you might want something.”

“Huh? Oh. Thanks.” Jared stared down at the rice for a second, then at Kat. “You planning on staying for the evening?”

“I think so. I do feel a bit bad, coz Rei’s not here. So I may go back, just to check—”

“It’s OK,” he interrupted; there was a glow in her face he’d never seen before. “Stay here and enjoy yourself. See if you can get a few dances off people.”

“Mm. Yeah. I’ll probably do that.” She smiled a little as she wandered off. Jared leaned back against the wall, the throbbing hum of music and conversation already seeping into his skull. The bowl lay heavy in his hand; he wasn’t sure he was especially hungry.

When the background music turned to a lively jig, Spade materialised at his side like a hash dealer looking to reclaim a debt. “Come on, lazy arse. Let’s do some dancing.”

It wasn’t a dance they knew well, but it was simple enough. Jared found himself moving without really having to think about it, although he suspected he was more than a little mechanical to dance with. Spade didn’t seem to mind, however, and at the end of the dance she thanked him with a mock bow. “Well, that was pretty fun. You want some booze? I want to get my hands on at least _some_ of the free stuff before everyone else gets smashed on it.”

Jared chuckled. “Maybe later if there’s any left.”

“You remember what Ewin said about Loman’s squad turning up. Do you remember the time we ended up at the same flophouse, and they—” She stopped. “Jared, you’re not listening.”

“What? Oh, sorry.” Imagination was a powerful thing. He could have sworn he’d just seen a flash of red hair in among the partygoers. “You said something about Loman?”

“It wasn’t important. Are you all right?”

“Just a bit of a headache,” he said, and longed to believe it. “I said to Kat I was going to head back and see if Rei needs anything.”

“Well, that’s sweet of you. Are you gonna try and be back for sunrise?”

The sunrise, symbolising the rising phoenix and the dawn of its new reign, was traditionally seen as the beginning of the new year. Jared shrugged. “Don’t know. I might just crash out when I get in.”

“You shouldn’t be tired yet, you’ve been asleep half the day,” Spade said, but she squeezed his hand. “Don’t hang around if you aren’t feeling good.”

“I’m feeling fine.”

There was an awkward little silence. Then Spade grinned and poked him on the nose. “You should probably look in the mirror.”

“Yeah, Mik’s already reminded me.”

Her grin became a laugh and she moved off into the crowd. Jared watched her go with a fondness stronger than most emotions he’d been feeling recently. But that surge soon vanished, replaced by a drained emptiness and a sudden desire for sleep. As he slipped away from the party, trying to avoid drawing the attention of Ewin or any of the others, he found himself wishing that he’d been able to enjoy that brief moment.

The squad-house was in darkness when Jared returned; he’d forgotten they’d turned the lights off on their way out. He went to flick the switch but stopped. “Rei?” he whispered, wondering if she was asleep or simply dozing. If she was finally sleeping peacefully, the last thing he wanted to do was put on the light and wake her up. “Rei?”

No response from Rei. Jared sighed to himself and began the slow — and very careful — process of finding his bed in the dark.

To Jared’s embarrassment, the process was a failure. He didn’t even have the excuse of alcohol on his side. First he misjudged where the table was and stubbed his toe; then, as he tried to move away, his other foot caught the leg of one of the stools. He went down with a crash, abandoning all attempts at being quiet as he swore.

Rei’s voice, groggy and confused, came out of the darkness. “Jared?”

“Sorry,” Jared said quickly, still wincing in pain. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Well, now I’m awake, you can turn the light on.”

Jared switched it on. Rei screwed up her eyes, readjusting them to the light. “What _was_ that?”

“Tripped over the stool.”

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

His toe was on fire, and he’d definitely bruised his knees. Jared rubbed them with a wince. “Just my pride.”

She got out of bed, still blinking, and gave her legs a stretch. “Everyone else still at the party?”

“We only went out half an hour ago.”

“Oh,” said Rei. “You weren’t feeling it then?”

Jared shrugged. “Not so much. I thought I might come and see how you were doing. Then stay here the rest of the night.” It belatedly occurred to him that she might not be happy to sleep alone in a room with him. “If you’re OK with it, that is.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I trust you.” She sat back down on the bed. “Come and sit down.”

It was the kind of invitation he wasn’t used to getting from her, and he hesitated for a second. “Are you sure?”

“If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t be saying it, would I?”

He sat down next to her, keeping a slight distance. Her breathing became slightly shaky as she watched him. Either he was too close, or she was steeling the courage to do something. But before he could widen that gap between them, she reached behind her bed and pulled up a waterskin. “Face this way,” she said, wetting a cloth, and wiped the smudge of charcoal off the tip of his nose. “I’m sure that would look great if it was on your eyes. On the rest of your face, not so much.”

She tucked the cloth into her pocket and replaced the waterskin at the side of the bed. She was speaking normally and her movements were far less sluggish than they’d been in recent weeks, but her eyes still had the slightly deadened look of someone who’d faced far more than she was capable of processing. Then she looked back at Jared, and to his shock he saw his own thoughts reflected in her face. “Look at us both,” she said softly. “We’re disasters.”

“Always good to find things in common.” But his voice cracked a little. It felt as though Rei had stripped away the outer layer of his soul, revealing nakedness. The attempt at light-heartedness was a cladding she’d already seen past. “You know, it’s usually Spade who gives me the pitying looks.”

“I don’t _pity_ you.” She paused. “I think I understand you. If only a bit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, and took his hand. He felt her whole arm shake and her fingers twitch, as if her mind was trying to force her to let go. Her breathing caught for a second, then gently eased out. “It’s taken me so long to work up the courage to touch you. But I’ve wanted to.”

Words, normally so smooth and ready on his tongue, stuck to the roof of his mouth. All he could do was sit there and feel the coolness of her hand in his. “I know you have your sister,” she continued. “And I’m sure she understands more of things than I ever could. But I still – I still want you to know that I’m here. If you ever need me.”

“I wouldn’t want to take anything away from your own—”

“Men,” she said with a little hiss. _“Shek._ Shek men. Don’t try and divert, not on my behalf. The shit that’s happened isn’t just about me. We can support each other. And Jared, you helped me so much. I gave up so many times… let me try and help you too.”

He smiled, a smile that felt a little twisted. “It’s my stuff I need to work through. Nobody can do it for me.”

“That’s what I thought about my own problems… but it’s not just about having someone to _do it for you.”_ She chewed her lip. “You’ve talked to Spade, haven’t you?”

“We’ve talked.” They’d spent hours in the bar, getting progressively drunker as time went by. Even so, Jared had shied away from certain topics, and he suspected she had too. “But not about everything. The amount we’ve fucked each other’s lives up, I don’t know if things will ever be entirely normal between us.”

“That must be hard. Especially after everything you went through together.”

“Not so much together. Haga had us separated. When Ava freed Spade, it was the first time we’d properly seen each other in months.” Coming to find him was the first thing Spade had done with her freedom. Their reunion had been brief given the circumstances, and it was not until they’d barricaded themselves in the slavers bar that they’d clung to each other like lost children. There had been no blame, no suppressed anger bubbling below the surface — just a profound relief at seeing the other safe. “We each made a pretty big fuckup that sent us to Haga in the first place. Whatever Spade says, I still think mine was worse than hers. Actually, when it comes to fuckups, mine are generally the ones that get people hurt, arrested, killed… she can make them worse, but she isn’t usually responsible for them in the first place.”

Rei was listening with silence. When Jared risked a glance at her he realised he had no idea what she was thinking. Maybe she didn’t know herself. “Making bad decisions and having to live with them,” he said. “I guess you can understand what that feels like.”

“Oh yes,” she said quietly. “The mistakes you made. They were genuine mistakes, right? You’ve never struck me as the type to cause real harm on purpose.”

“I kind of am, that’s the thing.” He flinched a little, anticipating rather than sensing disgust in that silence. “Ewin’s always had it right. Spade burns hot, I… I guess I burn cold. I try so hard not to argue with her because of it. She throws out words in anger, words she doesn’t mean, but I go out of my way to say things that’ll hurt. You’ve seen that for yourself.” Sometimes his conscience, unsatisfied with his old apology, wielded shame as a weapon when he remembered the last time he’d really lashed out at Rei. They’d been in World’s End then — a lifetime ago. “There was someone I considered kin, just as I consider Spade my kin. He and his sister wanted to go to the Fog Islands coz they thought there was a shit-ton of old tech over that way, just like we’d found in Obedience. Ewin vetoed it. Said it was too dangerous. Koel wanted to go anyway. We had a massive fight about it.”

He still remembered every detail of that fight. What had started off as a heated disagreement between Koel and Jared had become something far worse when their respective sisters had gotten involved. As Shryke, ever the peacemaker, had stepped in between them and tried to calm matters down, Jared had lashed out at her too. She’d called him a bastard as she’d steered her brother out of the room.

It had taken some time for the squad to realise the two Scorchlander siblings were missing and not just sulking. Ewin, by this point shitting bricks, had swiftly organised a search party, but the trail — or what little trail there seemed to be — had gone cold just before the Fog Islands. A few weeks later, a Tech Hunter expedition had arrived in World’s End after a thoroughly unpleasant encounter with a Fogman Deathyard. Jared hadn’t forgotten the look on Ewin’s face as he’d sat him down in the bar with the other squad-captain.

“The knife,” Ewin had said, passing it across the table. “Cai was able to retrieve it, thinking it belonged to one of her squad. But they all have their knives. I wanted to ask if – well, if you recognised it.”

The knife had been nothing special, a standard-issue Tech Hunter tool. But when Jared had tilted it in the light, he’d seen the scratches on the bone handle. The rough carving of a bird in flight, made by someone with only a little artistic talent but plenty of determination to customise it. He’d looked up at Ewin, a sudden emptiness expanding to fill his insides. “It’s Koel’s.”

“Are you sure, Jared?” Ewin had said very quietly.

“Sure as I can be.” He’d tightened the grip on the handle, his knuckles turning white. “I’d know it anywhere.”

The siblings’ deaths had been a difficult adjustment for all of them. Jared had never really gotten the sense that his other friends blamed him for what had happened, but it had still been a terrible work environment. Nobody had had their heads in the game when it had come to their next expedition, Jared least of all, and when they’d dragged a feverish, paralysed Spade back to the infirmary the twins had realised they’d just… had enough. Enough of the guilt, the grief, the feeling of loss and being lost. And so they’d left, although Spade had done her damnedest to burn bridges behind them.

Losing the knife was something Jared really hated himself for. The samurai hadn’t found it when he’d been arrested, and he’d been able to cling onto it until they’d reached the stone camp… but slaves were not entitled to possessions, no matter their value. It had been taken from him just as everything else had been, probably to adorn the belt of some slaver as a trophy. Upon the liberation of the stone camp Jared had turned the place damn near upside down to find the thing, but had been forced to accept he wasn’t getting it back. Then survival had become his number one priority, and it was only now he’d been reminded that the sour anger was starting to return. _Bastard_ slavers. His teeth began to ache, and as he slowly returned to the present he realised that he’d been clenching his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” said Rei, and Jared suddenly wondered if he’d been remembering out loud. “I really am.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Not for you, anyway.” She’d put her other hand on his as well. It was oddly reassuring, like having walls on all sides… but protective walls this time. Safe walls. “It’s just… shit, I regret it so much. Of all the ways I could have handled it…”

Music, faint but gentle, carried over from the auction house. Jared took a deep breath and let it out, oddly soothed in a way he hadn’t felt in months. “I probably sound weak.”

“You don’t,” Rei said, and there was a tiny hint of steel in her voice. “And if you start saying you do, I’ll remind you of who you’re talking to.”

“You’re not weak—”

“And if _I’m_ not, why the hell would _you_ be?” She scanned his face for a moment or two. “Can I hug you?”

“Are you sure?”

Her hands were shaking again. She looked like a woman trying to summon the courage to jump off a burning bridge. “Just answer the question.”

“Yes. Yes, you can.”

He’d hugged her before, when she’d been in desperate need of reassurance. But Rei hugging him was a strange new experience that was definitely not unwelcome. She was skinny still, but not as skinny as he was, and when she laid her face on his shoulder he was greeted with a sudden and intense desire to hold onto her and never let go. But that would certainly have freaked her out, and it was with a little tentativeness that he wrapped his arms around her. “Rei.”

“Mm?”

“If you need me to back off—”

“I don’t,” she said with surprising firmness. “Like I said before. I trust you. You make me feel safe.”

Once again, Jared tried to think of words and came up short. Maybe he didn’t need to say anything. Rei’s hands brushed against his back, her fingers briefly interlacing with the little horns along his spine, then moved up to cradle the base of his skull. “We can lie down if you like,” she said.

They broke apart a little, just enough to get comfortable on the bed. It wasn’t really wide enough for two but Jared didn’t care; there was a deep sense of calm in their closeness that lifted just a little of the weight from his chest. Rei snuggled up against him again, her hand back in his, and they lay there while the music continued to play beyond the walls of the squad-house.

“I know this won’t fix things,” she murmured. “But it’s still kind of nice, right?”

“Definitely.”

She twitched a little, and swore under her breath. “Sorry… Haga thoughts.”

“That bastard.”

“Yeah… least he’s not as bad as he was.” Her eyes drifted closed, and after a moment so did Jared’s. “ _And_ he’s very dead now. Wonder what they did with his head. Or the rest of him, for that matter.”

“I hope the flies got a good chance to eat him first,” Jared said bitterly.

“Oh yeah. Me too.”

The headache he’d felt earlier was starting to recede. With his eyes now closed he found himself drifting pleasantly, Rei breathing softly at his side. The arm she’d hooked over his shoulder was more of a deadweight now, and he could hear the occasional little snore from next to his cheek. Even with the slight throb in his head threatening to delay his own slumber, he wouldn’t have swapped this moment for any party — and given their current circumstances and what had come before, it was certainly the best possible end to the year.


	18. Phoenix

Kat had had her doubts as to how much she’d enjoy the party, but to her pleasant surprise the evening had shaped up to be a fun one. Tech Hunters were every bit as rowdy as their reputations suggested, drinking and laughing and dancing up a storm that rattled the walls. It was easy to get swept away in the noisy spirit of the new year; even with the first lights of dawn on the eastern horizon, it felt as if almost no time had passed since they’d left the squad-house hours earlier.

The time might have flown by, but Kat’s energy levels had been sapped just as quickly. As much as she wanted to join with the Tech Hunters in the dancing, she’d worn herself out in the first hour. Right now she was sitting on a stack of chairs at the side of the room, her legs dangling over the side as she sipped from a cup of water.

She’d lost track of most of her companions. Spade, Lekko and Pia had all gone their separate ways, and Ewin’s squad had dispersed too. She could see Ewin’s head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd, moving back and forth as he scanned the auction house, and guessed that he was probably having the same issues in finding people. He caught her eye and came over.

“You seen either of the twins?” he said.

“Jared went back to the squad-house hours ago. I don’t know about Spade. Sorry.”

Ewin’s face cleared a little. “As long as they aren’t doing anything they shouldn’t… Have you been enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah, this is nice.” She swung her legs, quickly stopping when the chair stack wobbled. “Haven’t been to many parties.” 

He looked pointedly at her teetering throne. “Do try not to break yourself.”

“I won’t,” said Kat, but Ewin had already turned away. She took another sip from her cup, craning her neck to see if she recognised anyone else in the crowd. Her eyes finally came to rest on Lekko, who was speaking with a small cluster of people at the side of the room. Kat squinted, trying to work out if she knew them or not. 

“Finally tired yourself out, have you?” Thalen said with amusement.

Kat nearly spilled her drink on his head. She hadn’t heard him approach. “I’m not _tired._ Just… uh, spectating for a bit.”

“Enjoying the view up there?”

The chair stack was feeling increasingly unstable. Kat gave Thalen her drink to hold as she climbed down. “I think being on the ground is better.”

The music started for another dance, this one a slower dance with far less energy behind it. The people Lekko was talking to formed their own little set at the side of the room, and Kat watched in surprise as they began a completely different dance from what everyone else was doing. It seemed to involve a lot more swaying and elaborate footwork, but Lekko knew exactly what to do; the dance came alive before Kat’s eyes, a swirling river of people that flashed with colour like water in the sun.

“Well, drifters certainly know how to dance,” Thalen remarked.

“They’re all drifters?” Kat peered a little closer. They were dressed in brighter fabrics than most of the partygoers, and even the men were wearing jewellery. Most tellingly, Lekko was smiling in delight, as if she’d finally found her people and never wanted to be parted from them. “I didn’t realise there were other drifters here.”

“Plenty of ’em in Flats Lagoon. They come and go, just like the Tech Hunters.” He grinned suddenly. “You feeling rested?”

“What?”

They’d been leaning against a small circular stage, presumably a rostrum for the auctioneer. Thalen had already jumped onto it and was holding out a hand. “A dance?”

“Oh… I…” She hadn’t danced with a partner all evening, aside from an earlier, failed attempt at dancing with Pia. “I guess we could. But won’t everyone—”

“Stare at us?” He pulled her onto the rostrum. “They’re all too drunk to care.”

He was right, which was just as well; their dancing was awkward and clumsy, and they stood on each other’s feet at several points. Kat gave up trying to copy what the Tech Hunters were doing; she might have been sober enough, but her and Thalen’s skills left a lot to be desired. She let out a yelp as Thalen nearly slipped off the rostrum, a yelp that turned to a giggle as she pulled him to safety.

“How much alcohol have you had?”

“Not much. I’m just half-blind.” He spun her around inexpertly. “Maybe we should move away from the edge.”

The music rose in a crescendo, then came to an end. Kat was just about to step off the stage when she realised a few of the partygoers were applauding them. She grinned uncertainly at Thalen. “I think we had a bit of an audience all the same.”

Looking unfazed, Thalen tipped his hat to the partygoers. “By the way, I think Lekko wants you.”

Lekko had spotted Kat on the stage and was waving to her. Kat took Thalen by the arm and pulled him across the room towards the drifters. “Come on then. Let’s go and say hello.”

The drifters watched Kat with interest as she and Thalen approached. “So _this_ is the townie,” said one of them, a woman with hair that was half-braided and half-dreadlocked. She smiled and stuck out a hand. “I’m Rakel. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh… hi, I’m Kat.”

“So Kat, what do you know about drifters?”

The drifters were a friendly bunch, even more so than the Tech Hunters. By the time she was able to get away, Kat had shaken every hand at least twice and had been given several offers of adoption into the drifter way of life. Even Thalen hadn’t been able to escape a number of middle-aged drifter women cooing over how small he was. “I think they like you, you know,” he said, once they’d escaped.

“Lekko must be telling them good things,” Kat said, but her voice wavered slightly.

A crease appeared in Thalen’s eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“Lekko will probably want to go with them, right? And then everyone will be gone their own separate ways and… I don’t know. I’m just being stupid.” She rubbed at her eyes. “Probably just tired. I think I might go back to the squad-house, check on Rei… maybe get some sleep…”

“Do you want me to walk back with you?” Thalen said gently.

“But… it’s nearly sunrise…” Half the room had already emptied, with people queuing right round the room to get onto the upstairs balcony.

“Screw that. It’s not like there’ll be any room to watch it upstairs. Come on.”

She followed him out of the auction house and down the street towards the squad-house, passing by chattering crowds and that same tantalising roast-meat smell they’d detected at the start of the evening. The sun had not yet broken the horizon, but it wouldn’t be long. Soon it would be the start of a new day and a new year… a new year that offered hope and dread in equal measures. Kat shivered, tucking her chin into her chest.

“Are you cold?” Thalen said.

“No. Just…” She sighed and tried to change the subject. “Have you and Yari decided on what you’ll be doing?”

“Not really. I spoke to some of the Tech Hunter captains this evening, but most of the expeditions aren’t to places I want to go. And things are kicking off in the northern United Cities, so… yeah, a lot of squads are steering clear. I guess we could stick around for a bit until we find something else though. Yari won’t complain.”

“If you don’t mind me asking… how are things with Yari?”

“Not so bad. Still a bit awkward, I guess. I hadn’t realised that was the way he felt… I thought he was happy enough doing freelance work, but I shouldn’t have assumed.” He sighed heavily, fiddling with his hat. “I don’t know… maybe we’ll end up going our separate ways, if Yari can bring himself to break the promise he made our mam.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Let’s not think about that now. That’s a problem for next year, right?”

“But next year is—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. But let’s live in the moment. It’s not sunrise yet.”

The lights were on when they returned to the squad-house, indicating either Rei or Jared was awake. Even so, Kat still winced when she closed the door more firmly than she’d intended. “Sorry,” she whispered to the room at large.

There was no response. Kat slid her feet out of her boots, all too aware of how loud and clumsy her footsteps probably were, and slipped barefoot into the sleeping area. She glanced over at Jared’s bed but found it empty. Then her gaze slid to Rei’s bed, and she stopped short. Rei and Jared were both asleep… and asleep _together._

It took Kat a few seconds of frenzied assessment to calm herself. Jared might have been curled up on Rei’s bed, but Rei was entirely content with it. One of her arms was tucked around his shoulder; the other was brushed up against his chest and clasping his hand. They were snuggled together like children and, judging by how still they were, very deeply asleep.

Kat hadn’t realised she’d been hovering on the balls of her feet, but as her ankles trembled she slowly lowered her heels to the floor. She turned back to Thalen, holding a finger to her lips. “We’d better not disturb them.”

“Were you going to sleep?” Thalen said.

Kat hesitated. “I wouldn’t say no to seeing the sunrise first.”

“Better hurry then. We don’t have much time.” He was already halfway up the stairs. Kat smiled to herself and followed him to the roof.

The sun was still a dull glow on the horizon. Kat crossed the roof, looking out to the east. Thalen came over to stand beside her. A soft breeze swept through their hair as the dull glow began to brighten.

“This year has been strange,” Kat said.

“I hope this new year is better for you.”

“Oh, yeah. I hope so too.”

She felt his hesitation for a second, but before she could turn her eyes from the horizon to ask what was wrong, she felt his hand slip into hers. His hand was no bigger than hers but it was stronger; she could feel that strength even in the faint pressure he exerted on her fingers. Keeping her eyes fixed ahead, not entirely sure she could look him in the face without tongue-tied awkwardness, she squeezed his hand back.

A smile crept into Thalen’s voice. “The sun’s rising.”

The horizon flared with gold, and the first true sunlight of the day washed over the lagoon. Distant cheers erupted from rooftops at the sight of it, together with the banging of pots and pans. Even though the peace of the moment had been shattered, Kat still closed her eyes and allowed the sun to spread across her face. The Tech Hunters’ joy was oddly infectious, and for a soaring second everything was unfettered and beautiful and _safe…_

“I bet you didn’t have sunrises like this in the swamps, huh?” Thalen said.

“Oh no. We didn’t have the _sun_ in the swamps, never mind the sunrise.” She opened her eyes. She must have been standing there with the sun on her face for longer than she’d realised, because half the sun was now visible above the hills. The sky was smeared with blue and orange, and the last stars were fading. It was the sort of scene Kat could have stood and watched forever, but it was over all too soon; the sun was already clearing the horizon, and soon its transition into morning was complete.

“Well, I suppose that’s the moment we were all waiting for.” Thalen turned to her, but didn’t let go of her hand. “I’ll be going back to the party in a minute. See if I can grab whatever’s left of the food. You want to come with me, or are you ready to pass out?”

“I should probably sleep,” Kat said with a chuckle. “Or try to sleep, anyway. I bet I’ll be woken up when everyone else comes in.”

“I’ll tell them to be quiet.” He gave her hand a proper squeeze. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“Yeah, it was great.” She looked down at her feet, wiggling her bare toes. It was easier than looking at him. “Thanks for everything, Thalen. I wouldn’t be looking at the sunrise at all if it wasn’t for you and Ewin and everyone else.”

“It’s good to have you here. I’m glad I stuck around.” He let her hand fall, sounding a little regretful. “Go and get some rest.”

Kat knew she needed sleep — her eyes were almost too heavy to keep open — but the sight of the sun was mesmerising. She glanced over at the stairs, expecting Thalen to have already disappeared, but he was frozen on the top step. To her shock she realised that his hands were trembling slightly. “Thalen?”

He looked back, his eyes slightly widened. Before Kat could ask him what was wrong, he’d closed the distance he’d just made so that he was standing in front of her again. “If I’ve gotten the wrong idea with this, I’m sorry. We’ll just… forget it happened.”

“What are you—”

He drew in a slight breath as if steeling himself, then leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. The contact was brief, only for a second, but it lingered long after he’d pulled away. “Happy new year, Kat.”

She wanted to say something — anything to break her own stunned silence — but the words were trapped and all she could do was stare. Thalen watched her for a second, his face turning to one of sudden regret. “Shit, I’m sorry… I—”

“No! It’s OK, I… I…”

“I’ll see you later,” Thalen mumbled and, before Kat could force her face into a rough approximation of her feelings, he was gone.

Kat hurried to the other side of the roof. She was just in time to see Thalen leaving the squad-house, jogging down the steps and onto the street. He did not look back as he hurried back to the auction house.

He’d kissed her. He’d kissed her, and she hadn’t even managed to string together a coherent sentence in response… Kat covered her face with her hands, not entirely sure if she wanted to giggle or to groan. She’d probably looked like a dim-witted swamp-fish… The mental image alone was enough to tip the scales in favour of giggles. She had to clamp her hands over her mouth to keep any from escaping and waking Rei and Jared downstairs.

It was some time before she was able to control herself again, and even then her body had other ideas. She’d never felt so wobbly trying to get down a flight of stairs. By the time she’d reached the bottom she’d missed several steps and bruised every toe — and yet somehow, miraculously, Rei and Jared slept on undisturbed.

She threw herself onto the bed, hoping the lie-down might grant her heavy eyelids some rest. She’d been awake the whole night but now she just felt giddy, like a small child with too much energy. Maybe she ought to make a proper attempt to sleep, otherwise everyone was going to wonder if she’d been smoking hash…

“Kat?” Rei mumbled sleepily. “Is that you?”

 _Crap._ She must have woken her after all. Kat took a deep breath and almost lost it to another round of giggles. “I’m fine.”

“Oh… OK…” She heard Rei roll over, settling down with a contented little sigh next to Jared. The silence returned.

Kat buried her face in the pillow. Even the feeling of slight suffocation was not enough to keep the giggles down.

* * *

Time had passed since she’d been dragged from her cell, and pain had been inflicted. Ava had no idea how much of either she’d been subjected to, but she could certainly make guesses.

Even back in reality, things were every bit as muffled as they’d been inside her bubble. Ava could hear vague sounds, feel the vague vibrations rattling up the prisoner pole as the guards moved about beyond her peripheral vision, but their conversations were unintelligible to her. She couldn’t even tell whether they were angry, or mocking, or simply bored — not that it mattered, since the end result would be the same.

 _Okran have mercy on us._ The prayer tasted foreign, a thought not her own.

Her arms didn’t seem to belong to her either. She’d slumped down in the hope the ground might give her some respite, but her hands had remained locked to the pole in front of her. Everything from shoulder to fingertip was numb. There had been pain earlier when the cuffs had opened the skin on her wrists, ripping up her hands and crushing the thenar muscles under her thumbs, but nothing now.

For something that was right in front of Ava’s nose, the prisoner pole was proving almost impossible to focus on. One moment she saw it in sharp blood-smeared clarity, the next it blurred into vague overlapping streaks of reds and greys. It was about eight feet tall, taller than any of the guards, but even though its base was firmly screwed to the floor it was too shallow to stop it wobbling under the combined weight of two people. A brief spasm passed across the muscles in Ava’s shoulders, and the pole blurred again as it shook.

She might have blushed at her bareness, if her thoughts had gone there. But while the guards had done their best to humiliate their Okranite prisoners, they had not succeeded on that front — she was already beyond caring how she looked to other people. What bothered her more was the vulnerability, the removal of that last layer of protection. Each lashing, each wound they’d opened on her skin had been one more reminder of that vulnerability, even when she’d hidden in her bubble to avoid the worst of it.

“Unconscious?” The sounds were a little clearer now, but Ava’s head still felt like it was underwater.

“ _He_ looks it.” Strong fingers caught Ava’s chin, tilting her head towards the light. Ava struggled reflexively, a weak struggle that quickly died when the grip tightened around her jaw. “Not this one here. Funny, she’s barely made a peep.”

Ava screwed up her eyes. The light, sharp and white and everywhere, poked burning daggers into her retinas.

“We’ll leave them for now,” someone grunted. “Thought a nice little Okranite couple would be a bit more satisfying than this.”

Ava found her head released. Shadows passed in front of her eyelids as the guards moved away. A hand passed briefly over her inner thigh but disappeared with a noise of disgust. Ava breathed in shakily, the stink of piss and iron filling her nostrils, and waited for the footsteps to fully recede.

“Okran…” The Inquisitor’s voice was like something thick bubbling in a pan. He coughed. “Okran gifted you with courage.”

It didn’t feel much like courage. The more time she spent in the world, the more intolerable it seemed to get. Hot, metallic blood trickled down her cheek from her ear, running downwards towards the corner of her mouth. She’d caught some of the whip across her face. Ava kept her head down, feeling the blood dripping onto the dusty metal floor, and did not reply.

“How do you do it?” he said hoarsely, and she remembered that he had been screaming. She looked up, trying to find his eyes in among those burning daggers. His irises, grey and steely, were ringed with crimson from burst blood vessels. “How do you have that strength?”

Ava stared blankly at him. There was no strength left in her, not that she’d had much to start with. To speak of strength and courage to a military commander, an _Inquisitor,_ when all she did was shrink away from anything that resembled reality… “I don’t,” she mumbled, realising her tongue was swelling up. She must have bitten it during the previous lashing. “I don’t have a choice about facing this.”

Valtena’s head dropped slightly. His shoulders, slick with blood, were trembling. “No, of course not…”

“Are you struggling to keep your own courage, Inquisitor?”

Valtena coughed again. For a second Ava thought he might be choking, but then he let out the faintest of laughs. “To think I would be naked with a woman who is not my wife, and speaking to her as a friend.”

He must not have had many friends. Ava shifted slightly, trying to keep her balance. There was a digging pain in her left knee, not caused by the torture but rather by her position. It was a pain that dug deeper with every little spasm. Her shins were bruised and sore from the contact with the hard floor, and the shakiness in her legs threatened to buckle her. “We might be like this for a while. They…” She gasped, her breath momentarily stolen. “They left me chained like this once before. A couple of days, must have been. I was fainting when they let me down.”

She could still remember how weak her heart had felt afterwards; she’d been convinced she would die, and had been ready to give up her spirit to Okran. But that hadn’t been the worst part. The worst part had been watching Ruka suffer, watching her as she drifted towards death only to be pulled back at the last second. Ava suspected Ruka’s hardened Shek physiology was the only thing that had kept her alive.

 _Cruel mercy._ Ava closed her eyes. If the guards had bloodied her enough, maybe Ruka would get to outlive her. She wasn’t sure of the extent of the damage but perhaps in her current state, even a little would suffice. Her mind swayed for a second, just enough to bring burning acid into her throat, then blinked like a flickering light…

She came to with her pelvis pressed against the bloody ground and her abdominal muscles screaming at her. She kicked her legs weakly, sending a jarring tremor through the shackles. Her fingernails scraped desperately at the pole but they were unable to coordinate with the rest of her, and it took several minutes of effort to return herself to that previous position. When she looked at her hands she could see brighter, fresher blood drifting in and out of focus. The stench of vomit mingled with the stench of other bodily fluids, and she realised that she had thrown up.

More time passed. The seconds and minutes slipped away from Ava, as numerous and uncountable as droplets of water in an ocean. One of the guards came back to check on them, and the whip licked the back of Ava’s legs like a flame. He went away again in silence, seemingly disappointed by her unresponsiveness.

 _Our lord of light, please have mercy on us…_ The prayer felt pointless, a futile plea to a god that did not listen.

“Give ’em some water. They’ve already pissed out whatever they had in there.”

Cramp rippled through Ava’s legs, almost collapsing her. Fingers gripped her shoulders, harsh nails finding the space between collarbone and flesh, and the rim of a cup bounced against her bloody teeth. Her tongue tasted the water and she retched without swallowing. The guard cursed, tipping her head back a little more until the water ran down her throat. Ava spluttered. She could feel the water escaping through the corners of her mouth and wetting her chin.

“Wouldn’t be new year without a little drink to celebrate, would it?” The guard tugged on Ava’s hair, jerking her neck. Ava’s lungs snatched at the air even as her mouth filled with water — _not thirsty, not thirsty_ — but all she could do was choke…

“Leave her,” said another voice. “She’s had her fill.”

Ava coughed. The cough became a desperate fit, rattling the pole she was chained to. It took several minutes before she could breathe normally again, and by that time the guards had left them. She blinked the pinkish sweat out of her eyes and wished she could pass out properly this time.

 _New year._ If her memory served — and she wasn’t at all sure it did, there were too many gaps in it — at least fifty days must have passed since her arrest. Fifty days since Ruka’s duel with Kuto, and Kat’s escape into the western edge of the desert. Fifty days since Ava had last tasted freedom…

She should have died a hundred times over, and yet here she was. Ava almost laughed but kept her teeth firmly clenched. If the laugh came out it would become a scream, and the guards would know that they had won again.

The guards may have been winning, but it gave Ava a bitter satisfaction to know that wasn’t true for the rest of the United Cities. They hadn’t been able to keep the Shield for long, and from the little she’d overheard it sounded as though Tengu had misjudged his enemy, with ever-increasing Okranite patrols being sighted on the Skimsands. It was small wonder the guards had decided to celebrate the new year by dispensing punishment on their two Okranite prisoners. Ava wondered if the Holy Nation would eventually succeed in taking more than just the Shield, and if they did, what the guards might do to her and Valtena then.

 _At least it’s not Ruka._ It had never really been about Ruka. Even Lady Sanda’s vial of spider venom had been to punish Ava and not Ruka. After all, Ava had committed the unforgivable crime of tarnishing a noble’s reputation, and she suspected the sin of being an Okranite would continue to mark her as a target now Lady Sanda had had her fun. Ava just wished Ruka had never made her such a ridiculous promise and given up her own freedom when she could have stayed with Kat and kept her safe. _But she wouldn’t have run, even if she hadn’t sworn that oath. She’d never have abandoned me._

The light was still brutal, even with her head turned away from the electric torch-posts. Ava squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the searing whiteness of it all. It wasn’t enough to keep the tears from spilling out. She wanted her father. She wanted _Ruka._ Two decades melted away in an instant, and suddenly she was just another child sobbing for things she didn’t have and would never see again.

She felt a slight breeze on her back as someone walked past. With her back soaked in blood and sweat, that breeze was enough to make her shiver. The footsteps came to a stop and the observer chuckled, as though he thought she was shaking with fear. It was a distinctive chuckle that Ava had grown to hate. “All right, you’ve had your fun. But prisoners of war make useful hostages, and I’m sure the emperor would prefer he stays alive for now. Take him back to his cell and see to it that he gets some medical attention.”

“Sir, what about the woman?” They so rarely called her Ava. Ava would not have been surprised to learn that many of the guards did not know her real name. “She looks as bad as he does.”

“She looks worse. Whatever did you do to that pretty little face of hers?”

The tone of the response was the equivalent of a shrug. “She moved her head at the wrong time.”

The pole shook as something heavy was removed from it. That same heavy shape was dragged past them, a scraping sound which slowly faded away as the Inquisitor was returned to the cage. The Warden pushed Ava’s matted hair aside, presumably inspecting the damage to her ear and cheek, then let her go. “Well,” he said matter-of-factly, “there’s no need for looks in a place like this.”

Iron clanged against steel as the chains were removed. Ava landed on the ground, almost throwing up when she smelled her own vomit at close quarters. She bit back a scream as the cuffs were reapplied to her torn wrists.

“Go on, take her away. See if you can’t sluice her down a little. Even I’m finding that smell offensive.”

Hands lifted her under the armpits, hauling her into a position that approximated standing. Ava tried to help the process along but found herself completely unable to put weight on her feet. Someone swore at her as she slumped. They took her back to the cage, throwing her in hard enough that she hit the bars on her way down. Somehow the cool metal floor was not as soothing as she’d imagined it would be.

“Waste of water, this is,” someone grumbled.

It wasn’t much water, maybe a bucket’s worth, but it was still every bit an icy shock. Ava gasped and shivered as water sloshed over her back, leaking into her dirty hair and pooling on the cage floor. It must have been enough to satisfy the guards, because they slammed the door shut and left her to the darkness. Even with the guards gone she remained still, unable to move even if she’d tried.

 _The phoenix rises._ It was a scrap of a much longer verse, something Ava had once read in her father’s copy of the Holy Flame, and it took her a moment to work out where the thought had come from. _The phoenix rises at dawn on the first day._

The first day… Perhaps it was sunrise already. Ava could almost picture those first rays of the orange sun, rising above a glittering black sea to turn it gold. Bark would be one of the first cities that saw its light, a light that would quickly spread across the Great Desert and into the holy lands. From the lush green farmlands of the Pride to the scorched, hellish wasteland of Venge, a new dawn would be rising.

A new dawn, and with it a new year. Ava curled up on the damp floor, trying to suppress the shivers. This new year held nothing for her except more of what had happened earlier. She knew with an utmost certainty that she would not live to see the next one.


	19. Truths

It was the morning after the party, and Flats Lagoon was in the throes of a full hangover. Jared and Rei had made the most of the silence and the new year’s sunshine, strolling hand-in-hand across the rig as the town groaned and slept off the drunken carousing of the night before.

Aside from the change in the calendar, things were much the same as they’d been before. The day was hot, the heat rising from the rig in waves of distortion. Out past the gates, Jared saw a pack of gutters weaving their way across the burning sands. The guards — the only people Jared had seen all morning — sweltered in their armour and watched the horizon with readied swords.

Things might not have changed that much, but the new day still felt different. Like a streak of sunshine in an otherwise gloomy sky, it spelled a hope for the future. It would be a long time before the clouds cleared — if indeed they ever did — but for now he was content with that warm little light. Rei, sad-eyed but smiling, caught his eye and curled her fingers more tightly around his.

“Are you OK?” she asked.

“Not so bad. Are you?”

“Could be worse.” She drew in a sharp little breath and tugged him to a halt. “I’ve decided to talk to Yehanan.”

“You have?”

“Yeah. I… I guess what you said last night, it gave me the push I needed.” There was a peace to her voice that Jared wasn’t sure he’d ever heard before. “I’ll still censor what I tell her, of course. Some things are best left in the past. But I don’t want to be ill either… I want to be able to go my own way, do my own thing, not have to worry quite so much.”

“That’s understandable.” Jared smiled wryly. “I guess I should be more open with Yehanan too, huh?”

“Perhaps you should speak to her again. Although… you do have Ewin and the rest of your squad.” She stared into the sky for a few moments, watching two birds chase each other across the lagoon. “What were they like? Shryke and Koel?”

“Tech Hunters through and through.” The birds disappeared from sight. “I guess Shryke was the more level-headed of the two. Ewin always liked her for that reason. He said she was a positive influence on me and Koel.”

“So Koel was—”

“Like me, yeah. Where d’you think I learned half my tricks?”

Rei chuckled, as if seeing the picture in Jared’s head; a half-buried memory of them playing cards in a Tech Hunter flophouse. Jared had been no stranger to the art of the hustle, but Koel had known exactly how turn a game of chance in their favour. Then the laugh faded. “I’m sorry you lost him. Lost both of them.”

“Yeah. It’s still weird, being back with the squad and not seeing them anywhere. I keep expecting them to come back. But they never will.” He forced himself to shrug. “Anyway, why talk about the dead when I got a living person next to me? Let’s go find somewhere to sit down. Preferably out of the sun.”

A pair of large barrels had been left in the shadows outside the Drunken Gutter. Jared helped Rei onto one and pulled himself up onto the other. They sat side-by-side, kicking their heels against their barrels and listening to the dull thuds coming from inside.

“Wonder what’s in ’em,” Jared said.

“Don’t know. Maybe it’s more alcohol to replace all the stuff people were drinking last night.”

“Could be, yeah. Or maybe it’s water. It’s not like the lagoon is suitable for drinking from.”

“Mm. You know, Flats was a good idea. I’m glad you dragged me out of Admag.” She sighed. “I wish Scrap was here.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It was the five of us, back in Bark. But now Scrap’s dead. Ruka and Ava might as well be. That just leaves me and Kat, huh? I guess Bark was just a temporary thing, much like the stone camp.”

“The stone camp,” Jared said darkly. “Wish it’d been more of a temporary thing. Me and Spade were stuck there for a year.”

“It was about half that for us. That’s what Kat reckons, anyway. Our sense of time’s been fucky… Strange to think life was pretty normal for me and her this time last year.”

“Rei?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you miss it? Your old life, I mean?”

Rei sat back on her barrel, drawing up one knee. “You know what, I don’t think I do. I still wish that shit with the manhunters had never happened… but maybe life on the sands wasn’t as great as I remember it to be. I never really had a choice about my path, I was expected to be a fighter. A mercenary. But like I said, I want to be free to go my own way.”

“And what do you think that’ll be?”

“No idea yet. What about you?”

“I guess there _is_ always the option of going back to Ewin’s squad. Going back properly.” He’d entertained the thought a little, remembering the agreement he’d made with Mik, but his words to Spade still rang true. There was still too much. “I don’t know. A lot of back-and-forth with that one. But if I don’t, I guess it’s time for another career path.”

“Yeah,” Rei said distantly. Jared turned to face her, about to ask if she was OK, but then he saw what had distracted her. Three flatskins, one tall and two others in hats, were heading down the street from the direction of the squad-house. “Is that—”

Jared craned his neck, trying to see without stepping into their path. “Yeah. Looks like they’re having a conversation.”

The trio came to a halt as he spoke. They were still a distance away, well out of earshot, and none of them appeared to have noticed Jared and Rei. Ewin was saying something to the brothers; Yari was nodding in response but kept looking at Thalen. Jared found himself smiling.

“What is it?” Rei asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just… I asked Ewin if he’d have a word with them a few days ago. Think that might be the conversation.”

“Shryke and Koel were siblings, right?”

“Yeah.”

Ewin clapped Yari on the shoulder, a gesture of parting, then turned and walked back the way he’d come. The two brothers retreated to the side of the street apparently conferring with one another. Rei continued to watch them, her heels still drumming against the barrel. “And those two remind you of them.”

“Yeah. Quite a bit actually. Similar accents, similar enough personalities…” Jared shrugged. “They aren’t the same people obviously. But they feel almost familiar, like I’ve known them longer than I have.”

Up ahead, the conversation ended. Yari tweaked the brim of his hat, squinting in their direction. He caught sight of them and waved. Jared hopped down from his barrel, agog with curiosity. “Well, they’ve seen us. Want to wander over?”

“Sure, I guess.”

Jared took her by the hand, helping her down. Yari and Thalen were already making their way towards them, and the four quickly came to a meeting-point on the dusty street. “Jared,” Thalen said with a grin as they stopped. “Just the man we were hoping to meet.”

“Oh yeah?” said Jared, feigning innocence.

“Ewin spoke to us,” Yari said, glancing back in the direction he’d gone. “He offered us a provisional place in the squad, on a trial period. As long as there’s no more running at gutters.”

“You took it?”

A smile spread across Yari’s face. “Stable work, a place to call home, an opportunity to keep on doing what we were doing… Not a bad deal at all, all things considered.”

Jared opened his mouth, about to ask Thalen what he thought of the arrangement, then stopped; Thalen’s grin said it all. “So you guys won’t be leaving Flats just yet.”

“Nope,” said Thalen. “But we’re not complaining.”

A hint of something — was that a _smirk?_ — briefly crossed Yari’s face. “No, you’re not.”

It looked as though Yari was trying to suppress the urge to tease Thalen for something, and Jared thought he knew exactly what that something was. “Well, this way you get to spend a little more time with our resident swamp-lander.”

Thalen seemed to sink into his boots. His grin disappeared, lost behind the brim of his hat as he ducked his head. Rei’s eyes, on the other hand, had lit up. “You and Kat?”

“No! Yes. Kind of. Urghhhh.” Thalen tugged his hat lower still. Yari cleared his throat, assuming a straight-faced expression. “I haven’t talked to her about last… uh… oh, shut _up,_ Yari.”

“Well, best of luck,” Jared told him. “Just try not to get on the wrong side of her. Those boots of hers are pretty solid.”

“Anyway,” Yari said quickly, as if to save Thalen from his own embarrassment, “Ewin told us you’d spoken to him on our behalf. Convinced him we’d make good additions to the squad.”

“I hadn’t realised I’d convinced him,” Jared replied, remembering the conversation. “He just said he’d think about it.”

“Even so, this was the solution we needed.” Yari’s voice choked up for a second. “Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem.”

Yari extended a hand. Jared stared at it for a second, his mind still on holding Rei’s hand, then realised he was expecting a handshake. Grinning at his own thoughts, he stepped forward and gave Yari a one-armed hug. “Good to have you and Thalen in the squad.”

“Let’s hope it all works out, huh… Ewin says we’ll be going out soon, teaming up with one of the other squads for combat training. I guess that means we’ll be leaving town for a few days.”

“Oh yeah.” Jared remembered combat training well enough — the dust, the rough sleeping, the blood and bruises and teamwork exercises. Ewin had always been a strong proponent of it, forcing the squad to participate a couple of times a year. “If you want my advice, carry your own rations. Last time some fucking bastard in Loman’s squad snacked his way through half the group’s food.”

“Thanks for the tip. You’re not coming with us then?”

Jared smiled a smug smile. He’d never been so glad to still be recovering from the effects of starvation. “Not an active Tech Hunter.”

“Well, I guess we’ll see you on the other side.” Yari glanced at Thalen. “I was going to head back to the squad-house. You coming?”

“I guess,” Thalen said, but he sounded jittery.

“You’re going to have to face her sooner or later, you know.”

“All _right!_ I’ll come back to the squad-house with you, but if you say anything in front of her or anyone else I’m gonna throw your hat in the lagoon.”

“Is that a threat, little brother?” Jared heard Yari say as they walked away. “I could pick you up and throw _you_ in the lagoon.”

“Anyone who picks me up gets punched.”

The conversation slowly faded into ghostly voices on the breeze. Jared watched them until they disappeared from sight, and hoped things would work out for them with Ewin’s squad. The squad needed its numbers, especially if he and Spade decided not to stick around.

“I think they’ll be all right,” Rei said, as if reading his thoughts.

“Yeah. You know what, I think so too.”

They returned to their barrels, watching the town as it slowly awakened from its alcohol-induced coma. The smithy on the corner was opening for the day’s business, the smith himself rubbing at his head as he adjusted the sign on the door. Three small children had come out of a nearby house and were playing some game involving a skipping rope, right in the middle of the street. Yehanan’s voice could be heard behind them, shouting instructions to whoever was responsible for taking the decorations down from the auction house.

“Hey, you two!” said a voice. “Move your arses, I want to take these inside.”

“Ah,” Jared said sheepishly, abandoning his seat for a second time. The Drunken Gutter’s barkeep was scowling at them both, and this time it felt almost warranted. “Sorry.”

“Sorry,” the barkeep said with a sniff, as the man with her helped her to manoeuvre the first barrel up the steps. “You lot never are.”

“Well then,” Rei said, as the barrel disappeared inside.

“Oh, she’s like that with me.”

Rei laughed, a sound that surprised him. “What did you do?”

“I accidentally caused a punch-up in the Drunken Gutter. Once. When I was sixteen. No way she still remembers that.” He grinned uncomfortably. “Honestly, I think she might be like that with everyone.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. But then, nothing in your story surprises me either.”

“Hey, I’m trying to be better. Sort of.”

She reached for his hand again, her fingers kissing his. “If you say so.”

Not wanting to be shooed by the barkeep, they moved away from the Drunken Gutter, turning their backs on the sun. Jared rubbed vaguely at the flaking, reddened skin on the back of his neck, resolving to buy himself a hat at the next available opportunity. They steered around the children, still playing jump-rope, and moved off in search of better shade and a friendlier place to sit down.

“You know,” Rei said at last, “sometimes I feel like maybe the world isn’t quite so bad after all.”

Jared stared pensively up at the sky. There was still that hollow sense of loss, the memory of places burned and friends killed, but that little spark of sunshine in his mind was brighter than ever, and the clouds were slowly drifting.

Maybe it would be a nice day after all.

“No,” he said slowly, and in the moment he believed it. “You might be right about that.”

* * *

The new year sunshine, streaming through a gap that had been left in the window-veils, proved an unwelcome wake-up call for Marisa. She lay still for a moment, the golden light dancing on her eyelids as the veils moved in the draft, wishing she could escape the last vestiges of the hash smoke from the night before.

Her head still felt fuzzy. It was a fuzziness she suspected had been caused by poor sleep but was compounded by the effects of the hash; likewise, her racing heart and the faint sense of anxiety told her the smoke wasn’t quite out of her system yet. There might have been another reason for the anxiety, but it was currently buried somewhere in her subconscious. Marisa was sure the stress had emerged in fitful dreams, dreams she could no longer remember. She wished she could remember the reason for it.

Everything was sore, and it didn’t take long for Marisa to realise why. When she moved, she discovered her head was half-hanging over one side of the bed and her legs over the other. Her shoulder was supported by the pillow, but her arm was pressed up against the headboard, leaving a jarring stiffness in her muscles. She must have fallen asleep horizontally. Her left leg twitched a warning as she sat up, and she saw that she had forgotten to remove the Skeleton limb.

“Damn it,” she muttered as she straightened her metal knee. The tender bruises at the back of her thigh, caused by the downward pressure of the socket, were reminder enough that the prosthesis was not suitable for sleeping in. “Cassie?”

Cassie did not respond. She was snoring softly, that strange little hitching snore Marisa had found annoying at first but had grown used to. Of course… she’d been asleep on Marisa’s bed. Marisa prodded her. The snores abruptly stopped, and Cassie rolled over with a groan.

“Cassie!”

But Cassie did not stir any further, and Marisa suspected she’d gone back to sleep. It was only after a minute or two that consciousness slowly returned and her eyes opened. They immediately widened when she realised where she was.

“It’s fine,” Marisa said, rubbing the crick in her neck. “I came back early last night. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Cassie’s eyebrows furrowed, just enough for Marisa to wonder if she was still scrutinising her. _Of course she is. She’s still a slave, even without the shackles._ “Put the hot water on please, Cassie. I need a proper bath.”

The hot water was enough to ease out the stiffness and the aches, and the steam chased away the worst of the cobwebs in Marisa’s head. She adjusted the protective towel on her hair and lay back against the metal tub. She could feel the moisture already seeping into the towel, and the scalding pain of the water on her bare skin. In truth it was probably a little too hot, but at least it was keeping her alert. Keeping her alert, and reminding her of all the things she’d forgotten about last night.

“Cassie,” she said, watching the steam rise from the tub, “is there anyone around?”

Cassie went to check. Marisa sat up, the towel slipping off her hair. She stared at it as it lay among the bubbles, and tried not to think too hard about what might be about to happen. When Cassie returned, signalling that the coast was clear, Marisa took a deep breath. It was no good. For her own safety, she had to know. “I want to talk to you.”

Cassie, who’d been about to pick up another bucket of hot water for Marisa’s bath, stopped in her tracks. Marisa gestured for her to bring the water over. “Pour it in, but slowly.” Even if someone _was_ listening in — and after all she’d seen, Marisa knew Lord Aramid’s staff were good at hiding — the steam and the sounds of sloshing water would act as something of a screen. “Cassie, one question. And I need the truth.”

The flow of water faltered for just a second, but then Cassie regained control of herself. Even though she was trying to act as though Marisa’s question hadn’t scared her, Marisa could see the bucket trembling through the steam.

“Shortly before the Shield was recaptured,” Marisa said carefully, “I became ill. As it turned out, it saved all our lives. And I’m thankful for it, I really am. But I need to know, Cassie.” _Just ask her now, before the water runs out._ “Was the illness natural?”

The bucket tipped upside-down just as she spoke, sending up a huge splash of near boiling water. Marisa shrieked as scalding droplets flew into her eyes, but Cassie’s face remained impassive. Beads of water, a mixture of both condensation and the effects of the splash, slowly trickled down the metal privacy screen and onto the rim of the bathtub.

“Cassie?”

Cassie looked around carefully, as if double-checking that no one was lurking behind the steam. Then, with a movement so deliberate there was no mistaking it, she shook her head.

“Thank you.”

Marisa sank back into the water, staring blankly at the steam. She barely even noticed as Cassie fished the sodden towel out of the tub.

It took her a moment to return to her senses, another question burning away. This time she thought she knew the answer, but she had to check. “Was it him?”

Cassie nodded. Marisa had been expecting it, but she still shivered. “More hot water, Cassie. Please.”

The bath was definitely too hot now, and yet she was cold. With those two questions, everything had been turned on its head — confirming suspicions she had only vaguely harboured. She was working for a traitor.

A traitor. The word barely felt like a word at all, just gibberish that didn’t quite make sense to her, but that was surely what Lord Aramid was. A man who’d known the recapture of the Shield to be imminent yet had not alerted the emperor. A man she’d assisted — and her blood turned cold to think of it — by writing down classified information in a war council. A man who was not above using Marisa to get what he wanted. Worst of all, a man who was already suspected by the nobility, and quite rightly so as things transpired. Lady Emika had seen through him… and so had Tengu.

Her hair suddenly the least of her worries, Marisa ducked her head under the water. It passed over her scalp, filling her ears, burning her eyes with its soapiness. Maybe she should have just gone with Ceras when he’d offered. Spending time with a man who drove her mad was surely a far better alternative to spending time with a man who planned to use her against the United Cities… but it was too late now. She was trapped in Heft, with Lord Aramid’s eyes everywhere in the shadows, caught between one noble and many more. Even if she’d had somewhere to go, running away was no option.

Marisa surfaced, brushing the worst of the water from her face. Lord Aramid wasn’t stupid; he had eyes and ears hiding in plain sight as well. Aside from Lady Emika and presumably the emperor himself, anyone could turn out to be a secret ally… even Cassie. _She could have any motives and I wouldn’t know. It’s not like her tongue will ever slip._

“Towel, Cassie,” she said with forced brightness.

Keeping up an act around a slave who couldn’t question her was one thing; keeping up an act around Lord Aramid would be quite another. Marisa wrapped the towel around herself and, with Cassie’s assistance, stepped onto the sodden mat. The bathing area was awash with soapy water and the floor was slippery. Marisa had a sudden horrible vision of falling, a vision that seemed more metaphorical than literal given the situation.

She fastened the Skeleton limb before doing anything else, allowing her to pull away from Cassie’s steadying touch. She left Cassie to clean up the bathing area and made her way back towards her room, readjusting the towel to stop it from sliding. It wasn’t until she nearly walked into Lord Aramid that she realised he was even up and about.

“My lord,” she squeaked, hoping he’d mistake it for a squeak of embarrassment.

“Ah, Marisa.” He looked away, but not before she saw colour rise in his face. “I hadn’t realised you were awake.”

So he hadn’t heard her and Cassie in the bathing area. Marisa breathed a little sigh and clutched her towel more tightly. “I just woke up. What time is it?”

“Hm? Oh. A little past noon, I believe. Are you hungry?”

“I am, yes.”

“Excellent.” He was already striding away. “I’ll speak to the kitchen staff at once and have them prepare something.”

Marisa stepped past the privacy screen and into her room, still lost in thought. Her clothes lay scattered on the bed where she’d left them, but putting them on proved more difficult than usual. As she was dressing, something small and blue fell out of the folds of the fabric and clattered to the floor. She reached down to see what had fallen and recognised the sea glass pendant Lord Aramid had once given her.

Marisa picked the pendant up, turning it over in her hand. Before she’d met Lord Aramid she’d been fiercely loyal to Lady Sanda and the United Cities — a loyal soldier who wouldn’t hesitate to expose treason if she found it. The piece of sea glass had once been sharp and dangerous too, but over the years the sea had rounded its edges, rendering it pretty but useless. Wasn’t that what Lord Aramid had done, dressing her in fine silks and bringing her into the palace? Perhaps he’d neutralised her, just like that piece of sea glass…

Her lip curling, Marisa dropped the pendant on the bed. But the sight of it sitting on the coverlet and sparkling like a jewel on a fat cushion disturbed her further. Suddenly the necklace didn’t seem like a decorative adornment so much as a slave-collar. Marisa sat on the bed and stared at it for a moment, then tucked it into its velvet bag so it was hidden from view. She’d worn it every day since Lord Aramid had gifted it to her, but now the thought of putting it on was enough to make her shiver.

_Perhaps this is just a misunderstanding,_ she thought, but her heart still felt like a stone that had been dropped into the sea. He must have drugged her, or given her some poison with effects that could be easily reversed… but how had he known to do it? Even if he’d acted on intuition rather than direct knowledge of what would happen with the Shield, there was no way he had the empire’s best interests at heart… and he’d gone against Tengu’s orders by doing what he’d done.

Marisa rubbed her temples. The smoky hangover may have gone away for a time, but it was back with a vengeance now. No matter how she looked at the situation, she was in danger — and it looked as though her most important test was yet to come.


	20. Scars

It was the end, and yet that end was just as slow and drawn-out as everything else had been. Dark and yet not, silent and yet not, the shadows flared with dancing lights and roaches crawled across her skin. Ava felt the pain and felt the numbness and wondered which was real.

She was lying face down, the cage floor wet against her forehead. The floor was still swamped in blood, and water from the guards’ buckets that had not dried up, and vomit and piss and tears. Ava didn’t like to think too much about the swirling contents, at least not beyond their soothing coolness, but her lips tasted of iron and salt and worse.

A wave of pain, the second in as many minutes, stole her breath. Ava’s fingers, swollen fingers with filthy broken nails, scrabbled at the slippery metal but found no purchase. She’d largely grown used to the waves and had learned to brace herself for them, but this one had managed to catch her unawares. The unhealed wounds on her back delivered scorching pain, like Venge’s beams of solar fire; her ear, snagged by a guard’s whip, oozed something… blood? Pus? And inside her mind, a place where no one could lay a physical hand on her, the world was spinning away…

“Hey.” The prickling touch of a roach became a softer one, just for the faintest fraction of a second. “Do you want to end up as food for the carrion-birds?”

She’d be dumped on the sands, a ready-made feast for the desert’s fauna. Ava saw skimmers drinking her blood from pearl cups like a fine rum, as the birds pecked her eyeballs and engaged in pleasant discussions about how very _interesting_ things were these days… “Can’t be alive and be food,” she croaked, not at all sure she’d spoken aloud.

Ruka smiled. Behind her, the dancing lights were like beautiful glowing beads, and damned souls screamed into a void. “Yeah, well. This place is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” Ava repeated distantly. “You’re dead.”

A ghostly finger brushed a tear — or was it blood? — away from Ava’s cheek. “So tell me. Where do we both go from here?”

Ava watched the beads dance together, expanding into a halo that surrounded Ruka’s phantasmic form. “I’ll go with you,” she murmured. “You said…”

The halo swallowed Ruka, leaving a brilliant afterglow in its wake. Ava squeezed her eyes shut but it made no difference; the white light was seared onto the insides of her lids. For a second she wondered if she had joined Ruka in the realms of the dead but then another wave arrived, leaving her curled up on the floor and screaming into her teeth. “You said you wouldn’t leave me,” she gasped as something trickled down her face. “You _swore.”_

She began to drift, though the bars of her cage continued to surround her. A spirit trapped like a bird, prevented from ascending into Okran’s glory by walls others had made, and the ones she had made for herself. Dead, rotting, dead some more. No good for the big scavengers now, just the flies and their maggots…

Flies and maggots. Maggots and flies. Life birthing from death, light sparking from darkness. Ava saw it all in fevered truth yet understood none of it. Then the dreams turned from bizarre to frightening. A war, fought over her very soul, cast wicked shadows over melting bars — shadows exaggerated by the bright, spinning orbs of light. Ava could hear the mighty swords now, the holy versus the unholy, clashing and ringing out in a deafening chorus of noise…

“Ava!”

Was that her name? Did she still have one? Ava stirred, shocked out of her slumber but not her delirium. Beyond the bars, inside a different prison cage, the fuzzy shape of a person lay slumped and staring at her. He was alive — more alive than her at least — but his breathing was laboured, and Ava sensed rather than saw the deadness in his eyes. “Ava!”

“Inquisitor?” The word felt wrong, _tasted_ wrong, almost as if it wasn’t really a word at all. She tried to sit up, an action still vaguely ingrained into muscle memory, and hit the bars. Ava grabbed them, found herself unable to keep a grip, and settled for leaning her head against the rusted metal. “What…”

“Do you hear that?” he said, and she heard a veneer of urgency in his tone.

“Hear… hear what?” She could hear _something_ — was that what had broken her sleep, or had she only awoken to the Inquisitor’s voice? Ava couldn’t be sure. The bars scraped at her face as she slid, aggravating old sores and fresh breaks in the skin. “I can’t…”

“The guards. They’re panicking.”

_Panic._ Something — an emotion perhaps, or an instinct — clawed its way out of a sandy grave, fighting to reach the surface of her consciousness. Valtena was muttering to himself, sentences that Ava recognised yet found incomprehensible. As the guards’ confusion only grew, their shouts and orders echoing off metal walls, she eventually realised that he was praying.

“Why?” she said.

But Valtena’s prayers were an unceasing flow, and Ava’s weak question was not enough to dam it. Whatever the reason, the panic was rubbing off on the prisoners too. A high-pitched wail, a sob of injustice, warbled like song from a distant cellblock. _“Meeeeena… ne meeee… meeeenaaaa…”_

“Enough, enough!” yelled the Warden. “Their demands…”

“Sir… the Inquisitor… they’re demanding…”

“Oh they are, are they? And they think they’ll get him?” But Ava heard real fear behind that bluster; fear that trembled at the prospect of whatever was happening beyond Ava’s cellblock. “The second they get their hands on him they’ll burn us alive…”

“… surrounded…”

“… no other choice…”

_“Silence!_ They aren’t so many, and we have a fortress here, don’t forget. Prepare for an attack and if needs must, be ready to execute the prisoners.”

“Put us out of our misery already, why don’t you,” someone yelled, “spare us the trouble of falling into the hands of fucking Okranites.”

“Hope they do the same to you as you did to us, you glowing-eyed bastard!”

More jeers from the neighbouring cellblocks joined the cacophony, the jeers of prisoners with little to lose. The screamer’s wailing, mournful song rose above the din, piercing everyone’s eardrums. A pair of armoured boots rang out as someone strode across the prison floor, and there came a metal clang that jarred through Ava’s skull.

“I said _silence!”_ the Warden screamed.

“He knows he can’t keep them back,” said Valtena, and resumed his prayers.

There came the sound of more shouts, but this time they were outside the prison. Outside, a place that existed only as an abstract concept in Ava’s memory, suddenly became a real and tangible thing once again. An army on the sands… an army that was getting louder and louder just as everything else was…

Finally, the ending she’d dreamed of. Ava wondered why the prospect of her imminent death did not stir her as much as it should have done. Noisy silence reigned once again, the darkness a bright afterglow. If Ava had been in any mind to fight it she might have done — the end to everything was in sight, after all — but consciousness slipped all the same.

She might not have noticed herself passing out, if it hadn’t been for the change in the tone of things that greeted her when she awoke. There was a very real sense of imminent death, of guards running uselessly like trapped rats. Valtena had been right. There may have been ten men outside or a thousand, but the walls of Tengu’s Vault were no match for them…

Boots ran towards the cellblock at a frantic pace. Ava was sure she smelled blood, and it was blood in the air too, not just her own blood pooling on a dusty cage floor. She shrank back reflexively, that small unburied something telling her to hunker down and stay absolutely silent. Lights swung, real lights this time, illuminating the area that surrounded her cage. She lowered her face to the floor again and hid behind her hair.

“And now you’re willing to give me up?” Valtena said as keys were fumbled. “Now you fear for your own skin?”

“You think I’m giving you up, you bastard Okranite?” Ava heard the cage being ripped open, followed by the dull thud of a body sprawling on the floor. “You can think again.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Give me the dignity of a quick death.”

Screams from downstairs. The little hairs on the back of Ava’s neck stood up with each one she heard. The screams of the tortured, the damned, the dying. Like a flame that had been snuffed out, cries of fear and pain spluttered into bloody silence. Was Okran claiming those souls, or was Narko? Ava dared not lift her head to see. All she could make out through the thick, tangled rope of hair was a blinding lantern and rough silhouettes. Beyond the cellblock she heard the storm of a stampede, a rush of rage and noise and oncoming death…

“Damn it, damn it!” the Warden screamed. _“Guards!_ Kill the prisoners!”

Ava would have faced the ending, if she’d been able to see past the swinging lantern. Now her time was counted in minutes, profound relief swept through her just as surely as another agonising wave. And yet there was still something small and unburied… a true fear of losing the little she had left.

_Deliverance._ Ava’s lips silently framed the word for a moment, then found voice.

“Goodbye, Ruka,” she whispered into her hair.

The cellblock floor thundered with armoured boots, as Okran’s mercy came rushing forward.

* * *

“He kissed me,” Kat said.

She was sitting in the rooftop sunshine, keeping Lekko company as she made the final repairs to her hat. It still looked battered, the damage to the straw clearly visible even with the knotted strips of fabric giving them support, but its functionality had been restored. As she watched, Lekko turned the hat upside down and began prodding at the interior, spreading the straw. “He kissed me, Lekko,” she said again. “What does that mean?”

Lekko looked up, her eyebrows raised in amusement. “I think you know what that means.”

“That he likes me, yeah.” If Kat had ever had this conversation with her grandmother, she’d probably have told her to stop her nonsense and get on with things. Perhaps it _was_ nonsense, but it felt like self-indulgent nonsense — the kind that brought back that earlier sense of excited giddiness. “But do you think he _like_ likes me, or—”

Lekko laughed. “Kat, I can’t read Thalen’s mind. You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

“All right, all right! Not so loud.” Thalen wasn’t downstairs — at least not as far as Kat was aware — but the twins were, and she didn’t want to add fuel to the teasing. She’d already had enough of their knowing smirks. “Anyway, I don’t have to ask him right now. He’s not leaving anymore.”

“Oh, of course he isn’t is he? He and Yari, they’re sticking around.” Lekko put on the hat. “Ah, good. That’s much better.”

Kat looked across the roof to the spot where Thalen had kissed her. “I’m glad they’re not leaving. Thalen aside, I was kind of used to them being around.”

“I’m sure we’re all glad. The twins seem to get on well with them.”

“Yeah.” She rubbed her ankle through its boot, still staring absently. There was something that mattered more to her, but it was proving difficult to spit it out. “Jared and Yari, they seem close in age. Must be better than hanging around with kids like me and Pia all the time.”

“Is that how you think of yourself? A child?”

“Dunno. I’m eighteen now.” She’d never known her exact birthdate — a birth month had always been accurate enough for the swamp-landers — but eighteen felt right. “But I thought adults would… I dunno… be a bit more sure about things.”

Lekko sighed. “Adults don’t have much more of a clue. We just pretend because we have to.”

“Rakel and the other drifters,” Kat burst out.

“Hm?”

“At the party a couple of nights ago.”

“What about them?” Lekko said.

“You’ll be leaving Flats with them, right?”

There was a pause. “Leaving Flats?”

“Well, you did say you’d be leaving.” Kat forced herself to look at Lekko and not fidget. “And with you getting on so well with them, I just thought maybe… maybe you’d be going with them.”

Lekko chuckled. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“What? No! I’m just…”

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m joking.” Lekko put her hand on Kat’s shoulder. “I won’t be going with them. Not this time.”

“But…”

“They plan to return to Flats in a few months. Maybe then, if I feel like I can travel. But to be honest, it’s not such an easy decision as I was hoping to make. You know I’m not a townie, Kat… but I’d be damned if I said I wouldn’t miss you all.”

Kat threw her arms around Lekko, knocking them both into the parapet. Lekko let out a yelp as her hat crackled, but was able to correct her balance before it broke. “Hey, careful.”

“Sorry,” Kat said into Lekko’s shoulder.

“You all right?” Lekko said, rubbing Kat’s trembling back.

“Yeah, fine… I think.” She half-laughed, half-sobbed. “If you were to leave Flats you’d come back and visit, right?”

“Of course I would. I’m not allergic to towns, you know.” Lekko gently eased Kat’s weight off her, readjusting her position into something more comfortable for them both. Kat curled up against the parapet, her forehead resting against Lekko’s arm. “Make sure you all look after each other, won’t you? Assuming you all stay here.”

“We don’t have anywhere else to go,” Kat mumbled.

“No,” Lekko said sadly. “No, I suppose not.”

“Me and Rei, we’ll still be on bounty posters. I saw our pictures once. I don’t think I look anything like the girl in the drawing, but they know our names. If a poster finds its way into Flats Lagoon…”

“Maybe they think Rei was killed at World’s End,” Lekko said, but she didn’t sound convinced.

“What will we do, Lekko? What will we do if bounty hunters come looking? Or just some regular people see a poster and get suspicious?”

“I don’t know, Kat. But… those posters won’t link you with World’s End, will they?”

“No. But we’re still wanted—”

“Wanted by the United Cities,” Lekko reminded her, “not the Tech Hunters. You’re safer here than you ever would be in the empire.”

“Maybe I should have changed my name. Gone by Polly.” Polly would have been a different woman, a former Rebirth slave who’d never assisted in any murder plots. But it was too late now; she was still Kat, and maybe that was for the best.

“You don’t suit the name Polly.”

“I suit it better than the names I chose for Ava and Ruka. Don’t think Ava liked the name Sticky very much.”

“No,” said Lekko. “No, I don’t think I would either.”

They sat there for a while, enjoying the sun and each other’s company. Kat heard carrion-birds scream in the distance, and chuckled to herself. “I used to be scared of those birds.”

“Of them? Or what they represented?”

“Both, I guess.” She still couldn’t quite believe they were all sitting in Flats Lagoon and not the stomach of a carrion-bird. A tiny part of her still wondered if they were back in the Stenn and this was all some beautiful dream. “We’ve been so lucky.”

“That’s the best way to curse it,” Lekko said.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s just… a drifter superstition.”

Kat stretched out her legs, waggling her boots. They were already slightly scuffed, but she didn’t mind; it only added to the comfortable broken-in feel. She leaned forward and ran a finger around the hardened sole of her left boot, realising with a slight guilt just how much pain she’d probably caused Jared. “You know, I wonder if Tech Hunters…”

“Tech Hunters what?” Lekko prompted, as Kat fell silent.

“Oh, nothing.” But Kat was already leaping to her feet, peering over the lip of the parapet. She’d thought she’d heard Thalen, and she was right; he and Yari were standing on the steps to the squad-house, deep in conversation. “Thalen’s here… I should probably talk to him, right?”

“Have you spoken to him at all since he kissed you?” Lekko said suspiciously.

“Um…” They’d rarely been awake and in the squad-house at the same time these last few days; on the rare occasions when they had been, Kat had found excuses to be somewhere else. “No, uh. Not really.”

“Oh, Kat. He’s probably been stewing over it. Give the poor boy some indication of how you feel.”

“It’ll be awkward.”

“Less awkward than if you leave it,” Lekko pointed out.

Thalen and Yari were still talking outside. They hadn’t entered the squad-house yet. Keen to act without too much of an audience, Kat hurried down the stairs and threw open the door. “Hi,” she mumbled, suddenly not at all sure what she wanted to say. “Um, can I talk to you? Thalen?”

“Sure.” He smiled briefly at Yari. “See you later.”

“Have fun,” Yari said, and went inside.

The door closed. Kat and Thalen stared at each other for a moment, an uncomfortable silence caused by the fact neither knew what to say to the other. Finally Thalen said, “We could go for a walk.”

“OK.”

They walked a little way down the street, that awkward silence still between them. Kat hugged herself, rubbing her arms even though it wasn’t cold. “I should have talked to you,” she said eventually. “I’m sorry, I—”

“No, no. I’m sorry.” He was looking at the floor. “I didn’t mean to make things awkward the other night, or ruin anything. We can forget it. It’s fine.”

“It’s not that! I… I just didn’t really know how to react, or what to do.” She inhaled sharply. “We could… we could try… if you wanted to… just I mean… see how it goes. If you wanted to.”

Thalen stopped walking. “You’re OK with everything?”

“Yeah! I… I mean it’s all kind of new for me, this stuff… but if it ends up not working we could be friends, right?”

“That sounds great,” Thalen said.

They both laughed, just for a second — the kind of nervous laughter that did little to clear the air. Looking like he desperately wanted to change the subject, Thalen put his hand on his katana. “You brought your jitte with you.”

Kat’s cheeks burned hot. “I wasn’t going to use it!”

“Hey, I wasn’t saying that. I was just wondering if you remembered anything from last time.”

“We’ll see.”

Kat drew the jitte, and Thalen drew the katana. They circled one another for a moment, their respective weapons in their hands.

“You might want to change your grip,” Thalen said, “or it’ll hurt your arm when I hit the jitte.”

Kat softened her grip on the handle. “Maybe you won’t be able to hit me at all.”

Thalen grinned. “Go on then… _agh!_ ” He jumped back, attempting to parry Kat’s blows, but the initial ferocity of Kat’s assault had left him wrong-footed. “OK, that’s a hell of a lot better than last time…”

Kat smirked, but the compliment was a distraction in disguise. The second her guard was down Thalen pressed forward, the flat of the katana reaching for her sword hand. Kat jerked back just in time and the katana hit the jitte with a clang that sent a jolt up her arm. Suddenly glad she’d listened to Thalen and altered her grip, she sprang back, resisting the temptation to attack and leave her side wide open. Thalen misjudged the distance on his next attack — only by a fraction, but a misjudgement nonetheless — and Kat seized the opportunity to land a rap across his collarbone.

“Ow.” Thalen staggered back, rubbing at the bruise.

“Sorry,” Kat said, suddenly contrite. She hadn’t intended to hit him as hard as she had. “Are you OK?”

“Well, you definitely have more confidence.” Still wincing, Thalen lowered the katana to his side. “And more aggressiveness.”

“I’m sorry,” Kat said again.

“Hey, it’s fine. I might wear a bit more armour next time. Before I take a beating.”

Kat put the jitte away, and Thalen re-sheathed the katana. “Also, don’t apologise. Like I said, you could be great at fighting if you work hard at it. And you’re certainly less scared to hit me than you were.”

She had a choice between anger or fear, and Kat knew which emotion she preferred, even if it was perhaps the more destructive of the two. She might have a long way to go before things were better, but maybe if she could channel that anger in a disciplined way, she’d be able to manage the worst of her issues…

“You know, I’ll have to put you up against Yari,” Thalen said. “See how you fight when the situation forces different tactics.”

Kat shivered, and Thalen laughed. “He’ll be careful. He kind of has to be, with such an unwieldy weapon. Besides, he’s a pretty soft opponent unless he actually wants to hurt you. And even I haven’t managed to piss him off that badly… anyway. Back to the house?”

Kat shrugged; it wasn’t like she had much else to do. She slipped her hand into Thalen’s. “I guess.”

Thalen was chuckling. “Kat?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I can’t see you if you walk on that side of me, right?”

“Oh.” Kat wasn’t sure why she’d grabbed his left hand; her right hand was still slightly sore and nowhere near as dextrous as her left. She hurriedly switched sides. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Yari has the worst habit of talking to me from the left… I sometimes wonder if it’s his way of annoying me.”

“Mm. Thalen? How long did it take you to get used to it?”

“What, being half-blind?”

“I guess. Or just the scars in general.”

“A while, I guess. I knew they were there. I gotta admit, I was kind of scared to look at my reflection after it happened. But it felt worse, knowing everyone else knew what I looked like better than I did myself. So one day I just… picked up a mirror. Dunno what I was picturing… a gouged-open eye maybe, or bits of face missing. Wasn’t as bad as that, thankfully.” He gestured at his hair. “To be honest, this is more a case of badly needing a haircut than trying to hide anything.”

“Oh, right. Maybe I should try it. The mirror thing, I mean. I don’t have enough hair for the other.”

“That scar of yours, it’s not as bad as you probably think it is.”

“No?”

“I mean yeah, we can see it, but it’s not a disfigurement or anything.”

“Mm,” Kat said darkly. “I dunno. Sure feels like one to me.”

“Well, I guess it’s your face.” She felt her hand move in Thalen’s as he shrugged. “But you look fine, with or without it.”

“Fine?”

“Pretty, then?”

“Honestly, I was OK with fine,” Kat said, trying not to shudder; Haga had called Rei pretty. “I guess it’s about what it _is_ just as much as how it looks.”

“That makes sense. But I’d still suggest looking in a mirror.”

Kat nodded absently. She hadn’t thought she’d ever be able to do it… but then again, she hadn’t been expecting to beat Thalen in a fight. “I guess I could.”

They reached the top of the steps, letting go of each other’s hands as they went inside. Yari, Ewin and Beanhop were sitting around the mess-table, presumably discussing plans; Thalen smiled briefly at Kat and crossed the room to join them. Kat went into the sleeping-area, fully prepared to glare at the twins if either of them said anything.

To her relief, they were distracted. Jared and Rei were sitting on Rei’s bed, their heads together in conversation. It came as a welcome surprise to Kat to see Rei was far more comfortable touching Jared than she’d previously been; her hand was on his and their faces were not as far apart as they normally were. Spade, meanwhile, was sitting on her own bed, applying a coat of thick charcoal eyeliner. Kat went up to her and perched on the edge of the bed, watching Spade tilt the hand-mirror to ensure she got the lines right.

“Keeping the makeup?” she asked her.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I kind of like it.” Spade lowered the mirror, and Kat thought she saw why. Although her eyes were still puffy from exhaustion, the addition of the charcoal made her look significantly less slave-like than before. “Besides, need to practise using my left hand.”

“You think you’ll learn to fight left-handed?” Kat said.

Spade shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to. Might give me an advantage in combat though, who knows…”

“Um, when you’re done with that, would you mind if I used the mirror?”

“Knock yourself out.” Spade handed it over. “Think I’m done. Can’t be fucked to mess about with wonky lines.”

“Thanks.” Kat took the mirror carefully, keeping the reflective side away from her. “I’ll bring it back.”

“Mm-hm.” Spade was already on her feet, stretching her legs. “Hey Pia, you bored? Let’s go find some entertainment.”

“Oh, but what about—” Pia was staring wide-eyed at Jared and Rei.

“Yeah, let’s give ’em a bit of privacy.”

Kat took the hint too; she’d just caught Jared mouthing _Thanks_ at his sister. She went up the stairs to the roof, where Lekko was still sunning herself, and sat down beside her with the mirror.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” Lekko said.

“This? Oh. Yeah. Spade lent me her mirror.” Kat realised she was talking a little faster than usual, speech patterns that were being reflected in her heartbeat. “I haven’t properly seen the way I looked since before we went back to the stone camp… but I was talking to Thalen and I figured…”

“It’s a good idea,” Lekko said. “Do you want me to stay here?”

“Um… yes. Yes, please.” Kat shuffled into a comfortable position, the mirror facedown across her knees. Then, feeling her resolve wavering and knowing she might change her mind if she hesitated, she picked the mirror up and stared at her reflection.

She saw nothing at first; the glare of the sun was reflecting off the mirror in a dazzling assault on the retinas. But then she tilted the mirror, and found herself confronted with her own face.

The first thing she noticed was her eyes. She’d seen them back in Moll’s safehouse shortly after she’d escaped Rebirth, and they’d frightened her then; sadder, older eyes which had seen too much in such a short period of time. Now she thought they still looked older, but the sadness had given way to a blend of different emotions — some negative, others more positive. There was no way she’d ever be able to see herself as a child again, not with eyes like that.

She lifted one hand off the mirror, where she’d been tightly gripping the handle, and lightly touched her cheek. It was still scabbed but on its way to healing; parts of the brand had already started to blend, at least colour-wise, into the rest of her face. A flame-shaped mark like the ones on the Holy Nation banners, like the ones on the slaves in the Rebirth quarry. She ran a fingertip over the contours of the brand. It was slightly raised, the skin ridged where the hot iron had touched it, but Thalen had been right — not as ugly as she’d thought it might be, and not as noticeable a slave-mark as she’d feared.

“My hair’s growing back,” she said.

Lekko smiled. “Will you grow it long?”

“Oh… I guess I could, maybe.” She went back to staring at her reflection. No anger, no disconnect. Her reflection was still her, just as it always had been. _Perhaps a slave, but a freed one._

She forced herself to put the mirror down, leaning back against the parapet. The carrion-birds, no longer a threat, danced with the waders in the skies above the glittering, sunlit lagoon.

It was a beautiful day.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued in book 6.


End file.
